Rising Above Challenges
by alexa35
Summary: When Max is sent to an orphanage, she meets a band of kids not unlike her and soon they form an unbreakable bond. But everything goes downhill when Jeb Batchelder arrives. Determined to rise above the challenge, how far will Max go for her friends? Very.
1. Chapter 1

Max gets sent to an orphanage after her parents passed away. There, she meets a strange band of kids not unlike her and soon they become the best of friends. Then Jeb Batchelder appears and everything goes downhill after that. But Max is determined to rise above the challenge, and how far is she willing to go for her friends? Very.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

When they told me Mum and Dad died, I didn't shed a tear. I didn't even feel anything at all. It was just as if someone had told me that I had chocolate smeared on my mouth, or that there was going to be a football match later on in the afternoon. If they thought that I was going to cry my heart out, they were wrong.

The reason was kind of simple, actually. It was because my parents didn't care. I was nothing to them. I was just another fly on the wall, another mosquito buzzing around their heads. They treated me like a freak and if they even talked about me, it was as if I wasn't there.

And they brought me to the School.

So what if they died? It was still the same, or better yet, an improvement to my life.

So basically that's how I ended up here, holding Dr. Martinez's and gazing wide-eyed at the woman in front of me. The orphanage was huge and in shambles, but it looked welcoming and homey. There was a small playground at the back – sandbox and all, and I could hear happy shouts and somewhere in the distance a dog was barking.

"Hi honey, I'm Anne Walker," the woman introduced herself not unkindly. "There're many kids like you over here, and you can make many friends. You'll be really happy here," she promised. I nodded but I doubted her. Many kids like me? In terms of the existence of our parents, then yeah. But not _like _me.

"Valencia Martinez," Dr. Martinez said and held her hand out. Anne shook it. "Max's parents passed away in a terrible accident a few weeks ago," Dr. Martinez explained to Anne. "We have had a lot of paperwork to sort out."

"I'm so sorry," Anne said sincerely. "So, Max, am I right?"

I nodded. Anne turned to Dr. Martinez.

"Full name?"

"Max – " I cut Dr. Martinez off.

"Maximum Ride," I interrupted. That was the name I gave myself. I didn't like my old name. And I didn't want anything that could remind me of my parents.

"But isn't your name – "

"It's Maximum Ride. Max." I looked at her and clenched my fist that wasn't in Dr. Martinez's hand into a tiny ball. Anne opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Dr. Martinez interrupted her.

"Please, she's just really upset and has gone through a terrible loss. Go easy on her. She's just ten, Ms. Walker," Dr. Martinez said to Anne, in hope that she would understand. Anne smiled wryly.

"And here we have orphans here who are as young as two, Dr. Martinez," Anne said to her in a matter-of-fact tone.

"But you see, two is too young to understand. Ten, however, is an age where children can actually grasp the reality of it all." Anne nodded understandingly. She leaned down and looked me in the eye.

"So, should I call you Maximum? Or Max?"

"Max. Just Max," I said with a tone of finality. Anne laughed gently.

"You are quite the feisty one, aren't you?" she stated. It wasn't really a question, I could tell. She smiled wryly.

"What's feisty?" I asked. Anne laughed again. I couldn't get what she was laughing about. Was she really happy about something? "Why are you laughing?"

"You know what you remind me of?" Anne asked me, totally ignoring my question. I glared at her for not answering me.

"What?" I asked rudely.

"Me when I was your age," she said and smiled. She stood up straight and started interrogating Dr. Martinez. I badly wanted to ask Dr. Martinez what feisty meant but I didn't want to interrupt their conversation. That was one lesson that my parents had taught me the hard way – do not barge in when adults are talking.

"Age?" Anne said briskly, in a business-like tone. "Ten, was it?"

"Yes, ten," Dr. Martinez said.

"Any important medical illnesses or allergies?"

"None. The rest of the information is in the file here. Date of birth and all that." Dr. Martinez handed a file to Anne.

"Excellent. Alright then, Max, you can get settled in Room Magnolia. There's an empty bed there. I'd bring her up myself, but there're a few other kids waiting outside." It was a clear dismissal.

Dr. Martinez tugged my hand and we walked up the stairs through the hallway, looking for Room Magnolia. We didn't meet anyone on the way up, and from the noise coming from outside, everyone was probably playing at the mini-playground.

It was in the middle of the second story of the three-story building. A picture of a magnolia flower was taped to the door. Taped to the doors of neighbouring rooms were pictures of other flowers. Room named after flowers. How… nice?

"Room Magnolia," Dr. Martinez said. We were standing outside the door. She handed me my duffel bag. I took it with a word of thanks and put it on the floor. It was light – there wasn't much in it.

"Good luck, Max," Dr. Martinez said to me. That was when I realized what was about to happen.

"Don't go," I begged. "Why can't I stay with you? I want to stay with you."

She smiled at me kindly.

"Max, you'll be happy here. You'll make lots of new friends and maybe you can get over the loss of your parents," Dr. Martinez reasoned.

"What about the chocolate-chip cookies? You always bake them the best," I asked as a last-ditch attempt to convince her not to leave me at the orphanage.

"They have chocolate-chip cookies here too. I'll ask Ms. Walker to get some for you. For all you know, they could actually be better than mine," Dr. Martinez said. She smiled at me sadly. "I'll be back to check on you soon, don't worry."

"Is it because you don't want me?" I asked, my tone slightly accusatory, as the thought entered my mind. The orphanage – a place to dump all the unwanted kids. Was that it?

"Of course not!" she replied indignantly. "Where did you even get that thought? You are the sweetest, wittiest and funniest little girl I've ever known."

"Then why did you put me in here?" Dr. Martinez looked at me sadly.

"You won't understand, Max. You're just too young." I looked at her forlornly. "I'm so sorry, Max," Dr. Martinez said, and kissed me on the cheek. "I'm so, so sorry. Good luck. I'll think of you every day."

And with that, she left. I stared at the empty hallway, hearing her footsteps fade into the distance. Dr. Martinez was by far the closest to a family I've ever felt. And now she was gone.

"Bye," I whispered.

I stood there for a few minutes, just staring into space. Sighing heavily, I grabbed my duffel bag, turned around, and entered my new room. It was painted a cheery yellow, and there were three beds in the room and a single dark brown wooden dresser. The room was small, but it felt comfortable and, well, homey. I walked to the only unoccupied bed that was near the window and dumped my bag there. I sat on the bed beside my bag and started swinging my legs. Then I lay down experimentally. The bed felt comfortable enough.

I walked over to the dresser with my bag and started to unpack. I didn't have much, just a few pieces of clothing, a card I stole from my father's pocket, a picture of my family and a notebook and pen. Dr. Martinez had given me the notebook and pen. She told me that it could be an "outlet for any suppressed feelings" that I didn't want to share with anybody else. I had no idea what that meant and I hadn't opened it.

I looked at my family picture. My parents were sitting on a chair, and I was propped on my mother's lap. I had been about five years old then. It looked so… fake. The smiles plastered on my parent's faces – fake. The black hair on my father's head – fake. The jewelry adorned on my mother – fake. In fact, the only real thing was probably the expression on my face. I was wrinkling my nose in disgust, probably at the strong smell of my mother's perfume and father's cologne. I sighed. I didn't need a reminder of a horrible past.

I stood up, went to the window, and hurled the picture out as hard as possible.

Well, that was one piece of trash taken care of.

The dresser composed of three drawers. I opened the first one and found it full clothes that were either black or dark blue. Mostly black. I closed it immediately. The second drawer contained an assortment of clothes belonging to another guy. It was more general than the first. The third drawer was empty, and I claimed it as my own.

Looks like I would be sharing Room Magnolia with two guys. I hoped that they would be fun and not snotty like the kids in my neighbourhood.

"Is this yours?" I jumped and whipped around to see a boy about my age dressed in black standing a few feet away from me. He was extremely good looking – he had black eyes, dark hair and olive skin. He was obviously one of my roommates – the one who had all the black clothes. After doing a quick mental assessment of him, I realized that he was holding out a broken photo frame with my family picture in it. I scowled.

"Why did you bring it back?" I asked, annoyed. I strode over, grabbed the picture, went to the window and threw it out again.

"A thank you would be good enough," he muttered to himself.

"Well, thank you for bringing back a photograph that I had thrown away," I snapped. He looked at me curiously.

"You don't miss your family?" he asked. I shook my head vigorously.

"I hate them. I'm glad they're gone."

"You're weird."

"So are you."

"Why?"

"You're wearing black! And the weather's like so hot."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I don't know! No sane person would wear black on a hot day!"

"How do you know?"

"Well… Um… Actually… I don't."

"Then you're the weird one!"

"Why?"

"You called me weird for no reason!"

Then we both fell down on the floor laughing at the same time. At what, I didn't really know. The sound of his laughter made me smile. I was really sure that we were going to get along. We both sat on his bed side by side.

"Oh right. I'm Fang," he introduced and held out his hand to shake.

"Max," I said and shook it. "What kind of name is Fang?"

"I dunno," he replied. "Actually my name's Nick. But my friends call me Fang." My heart swelled in pride that I was already counted as one of his friends.

"So do I call you Fang?" I asked and crossed my legs, facing him. He nodded. "So how'd you end up here?" Fang's eyes cast downwards. I had obviously upset him. And I felt bad that I had done that.

"It's okay, you don't have to answer that," I said hastily, rushing my words. He smiled a small smile and started to swing his legs slowly.

"It's alright. My dad wasn't there ever since I could remember. And my mum was a drug addict."

"Oh," I managed. A silence enveloped us. Awkward or comfortable, I couldn't really say.

"Um… What about you? If you don't mind?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"My parents died in a car crash," I said simply. It was just as simple as that. "They were drunk. And they crashed into a tree. Died. I was at home, watching television when Dr. Martinez came in to tell me. She was the nicest person I know. Next to you, of course," I added. I didn't know why I had just gushed out a whole load of information to Fang. I didn't usually tell people about myself or anything personal.

"Oh. I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be," I told him. We lapsed back into silence again. I looked around, searching for something to talk about. My eyes landed on the remaining bed that didn't belong to Fang and I. "Who sleeps there?" I asked. His face lit up.

"The craziest guy ever," he said.

"That helps a lot," I answered sarcastically. He laughed.

"I like you," he stated. "You're fun."

"And I like you," I said. This was the first time I had ever been so honest with anybody.

"You're going to be my best friend," Fang suddenly announced. I blinked stupidly. He jumped off the bed and rummaged his drawer, looking for something. He turned back at me and smiled, triumphantly holding a Polaroid camera in his hand. He happily walked back to where we both were.

"My mum left this to me. There're only two shots left," he told me. "I've been saving them for something good." I felt extremely flattered.

"You shouldn't waste it on me," I said, alarmed. He smiled, flashing his teeth at me.

"I'm not wasting it," he said and jumped onto the bed next to me. He leaned towards me, held out the camera facing us, and before I had time to smile properly, it went snap!

The Polaroid coughed out the picture and Fang waved it around. After a while, the picture began to emerge and I started examining it. Fang was looking at the camera with the barest hint of smile on his lips and my mouth was pulled back into a slight grimace. I winced inwardly.

"You just wasted one shot," I told him.

"I didn't," he said. "It was a shot with my best friend." I decided not to argue any longer.

"I'm going to frame this, and put it on the dresser," he told me. I nodded.

"Then when we're all grown up, we can look back and laugh at how stupid we looked," I added. He laughed.

"Maybe we could get married!" he said.

"But I've only known you for less than an hour!" I protested.

"But we're going to be friends forever and ever," he told me.

"There's no such thing as forever and ever," I said.

"There is if you believe in it," he argued.

"Is not!"

"Is to!"

"Is not!"

"Is to!"

"Oh, whatever," I said, crossed. Fang smiled and hugged me. I was taken aback.

"You see, we're like best friends already. Best friends fight and make up," Fang said proudly. "My mum told me that."

I nodded. Just then, the resounding sound of a bell rang loudly through the house. Yeah, house. With Fang here, it didn't seem like an orphanage anymore. It wasn't like a place where unwanted children were dumped. It was more of a… home. A home with lots and lots of kids, that's all. I was less than an hour in and I already had a best friend.

"Come on, it's dinner time!" Fang said excitedly and pulled my hand. I jumped off the bed and followed Fang down the hallway, laughing, him still grabbing my hand. "I want you to meet some people! And there's going to be macaroni today!"

"Alright," I said. "But at this rate I wouldn't be able to eat."

"Why?" he asked, as we finally entered the dining room. A gigantic table was in the centre and lots of plates and cutlery and heaps of food was stacked in the middle. There were smaller tables around the room with chairs. My stomach growled as I took in the appetizing sight.

"You'd have pulled my arm off," I said and we both laughed.

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I hope you liked that for a first chapter. I'm not writing the way a ten-year-old would think and talk, so I'm really sorry about that and I hope you don't mind. Reviews are loved. :D


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for your awesome reviews!! :D I know some of you were saying that Fang was out of character, but he's just ten. People can change over time. -cough-

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

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Children started to file into the dining room from outside. The sound of their endless chatter filled the room. It wasn't like that at home. My family never ate together.

"Come on, get in line or you'll miss all the good stuff!" Fang called. I squished myself behind him.

"Hey, that's not fair! You're cutting my queue!" the person behind me protested. I turned around and stuck out my tongue.

"Life isn't fair," I said and turned back. Slowly, the line inched forward. I took a deep breath, inhaling the wondrous smell and my stomach made another noise.

"You should be nicer or the older kids won't like you," Fang told me as we waited.

"Why should I care whether they like me or not?" I scoffed. Fang looked around inconspicuously before he answered.

"They're bullies," Fang finally whispered.

"I'm going to kick their butts if they mess with my friends," I said and balled up my fist. Fang laughed before his expression turned to one that was serious again.

"Don't. Last time, I heard they beat someone up real bad and she got sent to the hospital," Fang whispered again. "I don't want you to get hurt. So just be nice, please?" I sighed heavily. The very thought of going to the hospital was enough to send shivers down my spine. The strong smell of antiseptic… the needles… I shuddered. It reminded me of the School.

But I couldn't stand bullying. I don't get how people can obtain pleasure by beating others up and making them miserable.

"Max? Maaax?" Fang waved his hand in front of my face impatiently. I snapped back to reality and realized that it was my turn to get the food. I hurriedly grabbed a plate and piled it with as much food as possible. I realized that Fang had as much food as me.

"Are you sure you can finish all of that?" I heard Anne say. I turned around and there she was. She strode over and waited for a response. Fang was standing beside me, quiet. I nodded, my head bobbing up and down.

"I need to eat a lot. Dr. Martinez told me that I had… high… met-meta-metalibolisem rate."

"Metabolism, you mean?" she asked. "I think it was stated in your file… Strange. So what do you think about the place?" By now, everyone had gotten their food and was starting to dig in. Fang was waiting patiently by my side.

"It's great. Can I go eat now?" I asked Anne. Right on cue, my stomach growled. Anne laughed and shooed me away. Fang led me to a table right at the corner that was beside a window. There was an empty seat there. Four other children sat around the table, chatting merrily.

"Hey, Fang's here!" a guy with strawberry blonde hair said. He had extremely pale skin and was looking at Fang.

"How do you _do _that?" another guy with chestnut hair that kind of fell across his head said.

"Dunno," the strawberry-blonde-haired guy said. A red-haired girl was looking at me as if I was a walking zoo. Beside her, a taller girl was whispering to her. I just stood awkwardly there, not knowing what to do, or say for that matter.

"This is Max," Fang introduced. I held out my hand to shake.

"Iggy," the strawberry-blonde-haired guy smiled and shook my hand firmly.

"Sam," said the other guy and shook my hand.

"Lissa," Red-hair said and wrinkled her nose. She shook my hand quickly and wiped it as if it was full of germs. I decided that I didn't like her right then and there.

"Hey! I'm Tess," said the last girl. She seemed friendly enough. I smiled.

Fang disappeared from my side for a moment. I panicked, not knowing what to do. I've always lacked people skills. He appeared again a moment later, dragging a chair and I sighed with relief. He placed it beside him and beckoned for me to sit. I sat down awkwardly, feeling out of place.

"So, where're you staying?" Tess asked.

"Room Magnolia," I replied, digging in. I felt really hungry.

"Hey! That's my room!" Iggy spoke up. Lissa, who was sitting opposite him, picked a piece of food off her nose in disgust. "We're roommies!"

"Don't talk when your mouth is full!" she said disapprovingly. Iggy just grinned.

"Oh, so you're the craziest guy ever?" I asked. Sam, Fang and Tess burst out laughing.

"Fang, have you been spreading false rumours about me?" Iggy said and pretended to pout. Everyone laughed.

"So what's your story?" Sam asked.

"Car crash," I said.

"You know mine," Fang said.

"Aeroplane crash-landed," Lissa said. "They were on the way back from Hawaii." I snorted. She was like my typical neighbourhood kid. Rich and snotty. But what was she doing here? The others seemed kind of cool.

"Road accident," Iggy said.

"They didn't want me," Sam said in a tone that was matter-of-fact.

"Murdered," Tess said and a tear rolled down her cheek. A moment of silence enveloped us, as we silently exchanged feelings of sympathy and empathy.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

"Everyone here has a sad tale to tell," Sam said. "Don't be."

"So, has Fang shown you the ropes?" Tess asked, putting on a bright tone as she wiped away a tear, trying to change the topic.

"Sorta," I said. "He told me about dinner and all that. Oh and the bullies and how th – " I was interrupted by Fang's hand that covered my mouth. I struggled but he didn't budge. I shot him a questioning look and he shook his head. Sam looked at me seriously.

"Never talk about them," he told me.

"Don't go against them," Lissa whimpered.

"And never look them in the eye," Iggy said. "Technically, I can't, so that isn't a problem for me."

That comment caused us to relax a little and laugh. Or at least, the others. I didn't understand what he meant. He can't look them in the eye? But putting that aside, I could still feel the tension in the air.

"But why doesn't Anne do something about it?" But before anyone could answer, I heard someone call me.

"Hey, new kid!" a male voice shouted. I turned around. Was he referring to me? I heard Fang say something that sounded vaguely like "shit". I wondered where he learned that word.

"It's them," Lissa whispered, her eyes wide.

"Good luck," Sam told me quietly. "You'll need it."

Tess just looked at me worriedly and Iggy's face was grim. I looked at Fang, wanting to ask him what to do, but his fists were balled up and I could see him gritting his teeth. He was staring straight at the wall.

"Hey you! How many times do I have to shout for you, huh?" The chatter died. I started to walk over to the person. I could feel many eyes on my back and total silence engulfed the room. Even the sound of a pin dropping would be deafeningly loud.

I stood in front of him and looked him in the eye. He looked about fourteen years old, and his face reminded me of a wolf. Four other people who looked around his age were at his table. They all looked equally menacing.

They didn't scare me.

"So, new kid, what's your name?" he asked. I decided on a whim that I would ignore what my friends had told me. He was a bully, and bullies were bad. They made others miserable.

"I'm Max. What's _your _name? Wolverine?" I asked defiantly. I could hear silent gasps of shock. He chuckled.

"Ari. Ari Batchelder. And I'll take the Wolverine remark as a compliment," Ari said. His goons snickered. "Do you know why I called you here?" he asked.

I cocked my head, pretending to think.

"Hmmm… let me think. To beat me up? To tell me not to mess with you? To make my life miserable? I don't know," I said. More collective gasps could be heard. Ari's eyes narrowed.

"You better not mess with us, kid," he growled.

"Ooooh, I'm so scared. Mommy! Mommy! Oh right, Mommy's dead. Who can save me now?" I mocked. Ari stood up, so that I was looking up at him.

"That's right, who can save you now?" he asked and punched me. I ducked just in time to hear the whooshing sound his hand made as it made contact with thin air and he stumbled. He tried to kick me but I dodged and tripped him. Ari landed face down on the ground and groaned. I placed my leg on his head, applying a little force.

I could see the astounded expressions of Ari's goons. They sat there, obviously shocked that their leader had been taken down by a little girl. Then the whole room erupted into thunderous applause and cheering, except for Ari's goons who were still staring at me in shock. I lifted my foot and ran up to my room, food and hunger forgotten. I was in shock, and my mind was in a horrible state of confusion. I had just beaten an older kid up. I had just beaten someone up.

I was as bad as a bully.

But technically, it was self-defense, wasn't it?

I entered the room and looked out the window. In the light of the setting sun, I could see the broken photo frame of my family in the distance. The swing moved forward and back with the slight breeze. I felt really bad. Then the door slammed open.

"You _idiot_!" Fang yelled. "What did you do that for?" I looked at him. He was practically fuming, I could tell. "Two hours in and you've made the whole bunch of bullies hate you! You could have gotten _hurt_!" he shouted. Iggy came rushing in and the door slammed open. I jumped.

"Hey dude, chillax," Iggy said.

"How can I?!" Fang shouted. "They'll probably come back for revenge and hurt Max!" Then it hit me – the reason he was so angry.

He was worried for me.

"I won't let them hurt me," I said slowly. "I had karate and street fighting lessons since I was five." Fang sat on the bed and hid his face with his hands. Iggy sat beside him and put an arm around his shoulders. I stood dumbly in front of them.

"You don't get it, Max," he muttered angrily. "They will do _anything_. Anything to get back at you."

"Then what should I have done?" I said angrily. "Let him beat me up?"

"I… I don't know," Fang muttered. He laid face-down on his bed. "Sorry," his muffled voice came out after a moment of silence. "Sorry for shouting at you."

"It's okay," I said quietly. "Sorry I made you worry."

"What am I, your next door neighbour?" Iggy said and scowled playfully. His presence reminded me of something that I had been pondering about.

"Just now, when we were talking, you said that you couldn't technically look them in the eye. What did you mean?" I asked. Iggy's face sobered up and Fang sat upright, looking at Iggy, a look of concern on his face.

"I'm blind, Max," Iggy explained slowly. My heart stopped. He was blind? But how could it be? He seemed so perfectly fine, and … my brain shorted out. I was stereotyping, and that was bad. I couldn't think of a response to Iggy's statement.

"Do you want to know how it happened, Max?" he asked. Without waiting for my reply, he continued. "I was in the car with my parents. They were irresponsible, and always forgot to buckle me up. That night, it was raining, and the road was slippery. My dad drove into a tree, and I flew out of my seat. I don't know what I hit, but after that incident, I couldn't see anymore. I couldn't see the wondrous colours of life, just because of an unbuckled seat belt." Iggy's voice was slightly bitter.

"I'm really sorry. I - I can't imagine," I whispered, suddenly feeling like an empty shell. I hugged my knees and placed my head on top as we lapsed into silence again. I closed my eyes and saw the blackness, and tried to imagine being like that for the rest of my life. I couldn't.

Just then, the silence was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Iggy frowned.

"Come in," I said uncertainly. The door opened and I saw one of Ari's goons. He resembled Frankenstein so much, he could have been his twin. I immediately stood up in front of Fang and Iggy.

"What do you want?" I said.

"You do not mess with Gozen's boss," he uttered monotonously, strode forward with huge steps and picked me up. He threw me over his shoulder and carried me out of the room. I struggled, but he had me in a deadlock grip and my attempts were fruitless. I looked helplessly at Fang and Iggy. Iggy was restraining Fang.

"Max!" Fang shouted, and the door slammed shut.

I was seriously beginning to regret going against Ari.

"Where are you bringing me?" I struggled. I hated this feeling – being weak and powerless. Even though I was only ten, I was used to being in charge of my own life.

"You do not mess with Gozen's boss," he repeated and stomped up the stairs to the third floor.

The third floor looked similar to the second floor, but in place of pictures of flowers, pictures of animals were taped on the doors instead. Frankenstein brought me right to the end of the hallway, with me still kicking, and knocked on the door.

"Enter," a lazy voice drawled. He pushed open the door and as it swung shut, I caught a fleeting glance of a wolf taped to the door. Huh.

Frankenstein dropped me onto the ground and I landed with a loud thud. I immediately scrambled to my feet and examined the room curiously.

It was apparent that the room belonged to Ari. The room was larger than Room Magnolia. To describe it in one word, it was untidy. Pieces of scrap paper, food wrappers and empty drink cans were littered on the floor. There was a television set in the corner, and a single bed facing it. A chair, decorated like a throne, was not far off and the table beside it held all sorts of digital devices such as gameboys. Ari's goons were seated in another corner of the room. Comfortable chairs faced another television.

In summary, this guy lived in luxury.

"You're not afraid?" Ari's curious voice snapped me back to reality. I faced him. He was sitting on the chair with one of his legs crossed over the other. I snorted.

"Why should I be?" my tiny voice rang out.

"Because you're in _my _room," he said, shooting me a weird look, as if it was common sense to be afraid when I was in his room. I returned the favour by shooting him a look that said "whatever".

"So?" I shot back. Ari leaned back in his chair and chuckled. His goons had shocked looks plastered to their faces again.

"Boss, are you alright?" a small and short girl said. Her hair was what struck me the most. Half of it was red, and the other half was blonde.

"Yes, Brigid," Ari laughed. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Are you sure?" another male voice asked.

"Yes, Omega, now stop fretting will you?" Ari addressed his gang. "You're acting just like a bunch of nannies." The nodded silently, but kept shooting Ari concerned looks.

"You don't laugh often, do you?" I implied. Ari burst into a guffaw of laughter.

"Yes, yes, you _are _smart for your age," Ari said and grinned wolfishly. "So are you going to ask why you're here?"

"Nope," I said. I figured he was going to tell me sooner or later anyway. Ari scowled. Then his face cleared.

"I want you to join my gang," he started. I remained collected on the outside, but on the inside I was absolutely astounded. I stared at Ari as Frankenstein, Brigid and Omega burst into outraged protests which Ari ignored. "So what do you say, Max?" He flashed his teeth at me.

"Come again?" I asked.

"You are smart, witty, strong and I would like to offer you a place in my gang," Ari repeated. "So is it a yes or a no?"

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Just in case you were wondering, Brigid's hair is half blonde and half red because in The Final Warning, Max describes her as "pretty and blonde" but in MAX, her hair apparently changes to red. Maybe she dyed it or something. So I decided to just put her hair as half-blonde and half-red. :D Should Max say yes or no? Reviews are loved. :D


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for the fantastic reviews. :D Haha, the vote was unanimous: NO. (Though I still wonder what could have happened if Max said yes… but that would be a totally different story altogether :D)

Just something to note: I think the pace for this story is going to be quite slow, so sorry about that. Hope you bear with me.

**Dish-claimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any characters associated with the story.

* * *

"What happened?" Iggy asked as I walked back into Room Magnolia in a daze. Fang was lying on his bed, out cold. Either that or he was sleeping. Iggy's expression confirmed that Fang wasn't sleeping.

"What happened to him?" I questioned as I walked over and looked him over, making sure he wasn't hurt. I felt a bump on the back of his head.

"He wanted to kill Ari," Iggy explained as I shot him accusatory glares. Only then, I remembered that Iggy was blind and that my shooting him looks were merely futile attempts. "I knocked him out."

"Oh."

"What did Ari want?" Iggy asked as Fang groaned and started to come to. I shushed Iggy and looked at Fang. His eyes opened blearily and he blinked as he saw Iggy and I peering worriedly at him. Fang bolted upright, almost banging into my head.

"Are you alright?" he immediately queried. I nodded silently.

"What about you?" I said, feeling the bruise.

"I'm fine. Iggy, how did you do that?! You're blind!" Fang exclaimed, pushing my hand away and rubbing his bruise. He winced. Iggy laughed.

"I can hear really well, I guess…" Iggy said uncertainly.

"Okay. Max? What did Ari want with you?" Fang asked. He wasn't as mad or flustered as before. I assumed it was because I was back and in one piece. I smiled bitterly.

"He asked me to join his gang."

Fang stared at me, shocked. Iggy laughed, thinking that I was joking, but he sobered up after realizing that nobody was laughing with him.

"Serious?" Iggy's voice was hushed. I nodded and the fact that he couldn't see didn't cross my mind. Fang's face was as pale as a sheet. "That's big. That's really big."

"What did you say?" Fang blurted out.

"I didn't say anything. I just looked at him like he was crazy. Then Ari said that he gave me until breakfast tomorrow." I looked at the clock. It was already a quarter past seven. Dinner had been at six thirty. Fang groaned.

"He's got you trapped, Max," Fang said. I looked at him, confused. Iggy nodded in understanding.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to say yes or no?" he asked me in a dead voice.

"Obviously not!" I protested. Fang sighed.

"That's exactly it. If you say yes, you'll be part of the gang and not be hurt. If you say no, he'll probably beat you up or something."

"I'd rather get beat up than join that… that… that wolf!" I shouted. "What, you want me to join him?" Fang looked at me.

"You don't have a choice, Max," he said. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Maybe you'll like it?" Iggy chimed in. That caused Fang to look at him in shock. "Maybe you'll enjoy it like Ari does. I've always wondered why they like bullying people. Maybe you'll like it too, and you'll be happy."

"She would never!" Fang shouted. "Right, Max?" he added on uncertainly as he turned to look at me as if he needed confirmation. I locked eyes with him.

"I would never hurt anyone like that. I'm going to protect the people from bullies, not become one," I said slowly, trying to choose my words carefully.

Fang sighed, relieved. We were interrupted by the door being knocked again.

"I'll get it," I said and strode towards the door and opened it. It was a girl who looked about seven years old. She had curly brown hair and had mocha-coloured skin. The expression on her face was that of a frightened rabbit. She pushed me aside and ran into the room, slamming the door shut and panting heavily.

"Hi?" Fang said. She turned around and faced the three of us. Her expression turned to one of confusion as she caught her breath.

"G – Gazzy was chasing me like a maniac saying that he would set my hair on fire! He had a match! I – I ran away, but he started chasing me, so I wanted to hide. What are you doing in my room? Why're you so old?" she asked, rattling on like a machine gun. Iggy chuckled.

"I think you've gotten the wrong place," I said slowly.

"Really? But isn't this the first level? Oh no! I just remembered going up the stairs! Uh. I'm so sorry! Hi, I'm Monique! Everyone calls me Nudge! I'm like, seven this year. How old are you? Are you new here?" she asked and smiled at me. I returned the smile, a little less enthusiastically. That girl could _talk_.

"Oh _you're_ Nudge. I've heard of you," Iggy drawled before I could say anything and rolled his eyes lazily.

"Really?" she said excitedly, as if she had won an award or something.

"Yeah, you're that non-stop chatterbox Tess keeps complaining about," Iggy told her. Her face fell. Then she grinned again.

"Well, that shows that people _do_ talk about me!" she grinned toothily. "I want to be on a talk show next time! Then I can talk all I want! Ponies! Disney Land! Have you been to Disney Land? Is it really cool? I heard - "

"My ears are _bleeding_!" Iggy moaned. I laughed.

"What in the world was Gaz doing with a match anyway?" Fang suddenly asked. A sudden silence enveloped the room as we pondered deeply about Fang's question.

"Good point," I added.

"You do know that this place is made of wood, right?" Iggy added on nervously.

"Oh crap," Fang said. Nudge's eyes had been following us as each of us spoke, and her face suddenly turned pale. I hoped she wouldn't freak and start screaming or something, because she seemed like the person who would do exactly that.

"Potty mouth!" she accused and frowned at Fang. He blinked at her, obviously confused. And frankly speaking, so was I.

"W-what?" I blinked stupidly.

Iggy burst into laughter.

"Hahaha! I... wish... I... could... have... seen... your... faces! Haha!" he chortled.

Fang and I exchanged a mutual look of confusion, the dilemma of a toddler running around the orphanage with a match that was probably lighted at the back of our minds.

"What are you laughing about?" Fang asked.

"What's so funny?" Nudge queried. "Do I have something on my face? Did you suddenly imagine me in a tutu? D - "

"Ha.. ha! M-max was totally expecting you to freak but then you accused Fang of having a potty mouth!" Iggy explained, gulping for air in between.

"My mama told me potty mouths are bad. If we have potty mouths, next time we talk, poop will come out!"

At that, Fang and I joined Iggy in a new burst of laughter. We laughed even harder after taking in Nudge's extremely confused expression. She'd probably thought that we should've been sent to the loony bin or something.

"Uh.. You know.. it was nice meeting you.. mama said.. bad.. weird people.. uh.. bye.." she mumbled and hurriedly left the room, leaving us in stitches. Poor girl.

"Well, that was ..interesting," I remarked as we caught our breath.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Iggy laughed.

"I think we were being a bit too hard on her," Fang said. "But it was really funny!"

"Why was she even here in the first place?" I asked, having forgotten the reason due to the moment of hysterics.

"Some kid was.. chasing.. her.." Iggy shot Fang a horrified expression.

"And it's GAZZY!" Fang emphasised.

"We'd better get Anne," I suggested, having no idea what Fang was implying.

"Anne?"

"Uh.. The manager? Anne.. Jogger.. Wanker or something."

"Oh, Ms. Walker."

"Yeah, good idea," Iggy said.

"I'll go get Anne, and both of you look for that.. Gasky?"

"Gazzy," Iggy corrected.

"You people have weird names," I commented, and left the room to find Anne.

Just as the door swung shut, I heard someone snicker.

"So says _Maximum Ride_."

Weird thing was – it didn't sound like either Fang or Iggy. Huh.

* * *

"She's nice," Fang said to Iggy as they ran down the hallway, looking for the Gasman.

"Gazzy!" Iggy called. He turned to Fang as they ran down the stairs. "You like her," Iggy stated. "I've never seen you so open before. I mean, you were so worried about her!"

"She's nice," Fang repeated.

"Yeah, maybe you'll get married!" Iggy responded. Fang playfully punched his shoulder.

"Well, we're best friends already!" Fang smiled. "I took a picture with her."

"Using your Polaroid? Are you _serious_??" Iggy stopped and looked at his roommate in shock. "You wouldn't even let me _touch _it!" he wailed. "She's like, _new_! I've known you longer than her!"

"We clicked better?" Fang suggested. "I mean, we fought and we made up right on the spot! Mum told me that best friends do that!"

"We fight too!" Iggy moaned.

"And we make up on the next day."

"Faaaannnggggg," Iggy groaned. Fang grinned and started moving again, calling for Gazzy. Iggy jogged and kept up. "You know what, forget it. What are you going to do with the last shot?" Iggy asked hopefully.

"I dunno. Save it for something more special, I guess."

"AHA! You said it! You said it, you said it," Iggy started chanting. "You said that Max was special!"

"So?"

"You like her! You love her!" Iggy started jumping around gleefully. Fang scratched his head as he watched Iggy prance around.

"Yeah, she's my best friend!" he protested.

"You should watch soap operas more often, Fang. You are so deprived."

"How can you even _watch_ soap operas? I mean, you can't even see!" Fang rolled his eyes.

"But I can hear," Iggy smiled. "And when I hear them, I'll imagine the whole thing going on in my head, not like what's shown on the television."

Fang wrinkled his nose. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Next time Desperate Housewives comes on, you have to watch it with me!" Iggy stated.

"Desp... isn't that the show Ari watches all the time? I thought Ms. Walker said we couldn't watch it!" Fang said. His eyes widened. "You broke a rule! I'm going to tell Anne!"

"Tattletale!" Iggy scowled and stuck his tongue out.

Right then, a little toddler that looked about four or five came into view. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, and was walking haphazardly. Fang held his breath as his eyes trailed down to the Gasman's hand. He was holding a match.

Which wasn't lighted.

"Thank goodness," he sighed. The Gasman had a reputation for getting into trouble. Once, he had accidentally burnt Brigid Dywer's hair off. For some weird reason, the hair that grew after that was weird – half of it turned red and the other half was blonde. Ms. Walker had reckoned that it was the work of some chemicals or something.

"Is it lighted?" Iggy asked anxiously, breaking Fang's train of thought.

"No. That Nudge.." Fang said and Iggy heaved a sigh of relief.

"Yo, little Gazzer!" Iggy patted his head.

"Iggy," Gazzy chuckled.

"You like fire?" Iggy asked. Gazzy looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Fire! Fire!" he started jumping and smiling. Iggy grinned.

"I'll make you my app- apprenpiss? - Apprentice!" Iggy smiled.

"Ohkay," the little boy said. Fang narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Apprentice for what?" he asked, having a vague idea in mind. Despite the fact that he was blind, Iggy seemed to have an obsession with fire and bombs, which was definitely _not _a good thing.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Iggy said seriously. Fang rolled his eyes, smiling.

"I just rolled my eyes, Iggy." Fang brought Iggy's hand to his face to show him that he was smiling too. Iggy chuckled.

"Uh-oh," Gazzy suddenly piped up, catching the attention of the older boys.

"What's wrong?" Fang asked.

"Winnie the Pooh!" Gazzy shouted, throwing his match into the air.

"Winnie the - "

A loud farting sound interrupted Fang and suddenly, they were engulfed in a thick, yellowish-green cloud that _stank_, and that word alone was a huge understatement.

"Whoadang," Fang heard Iggy's distant voice say, followed by a loud thump. Fang tried not to inhale the air around him, but failed.

"Gazzy, get .. out.." Fang mumbled, and fell onto the ground.

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How was that? Sorry for not updating for so long! I'd really like to know what you thought! Reviews are loved! :D (And so are you!)


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews, favourites, and story alert subscriptions! And thanks for reading! Really appreciated!

Had a little hard time with ter Borcht's speech, hope I didn't overdo it or the opposite.

**Ohmygoodnessmamaitsthedisclaimer!:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

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"Anne, there's some kid running around with a match. I think his name was the Gasman or something. Fang and Iggy are looking for him," I called out, hardly out of breath after running down to the Manager's office. The door was shut and I could hear someone moving around inside. I hammered impatiently on the door again.

"Anne!" I called, a little more loudly this time. "Some little kid called Gazzy has a match!" I heard someone murmuring inside. It was obvious she was inside, but why in the world wouldn't she open the door?

I don't want the orphanage to burn down! I mean, I just arrived at this place and now it's going to get burnt down? I don't think so. I've already made friends, which was a total first for me! This was _not_ going to happen. I wouldn't let it.

"ANNE!" I shouted, and banged incessantly against the door with all my might. I heard someone curse and the door was suddenly thrown open violently. I craned my neck and looked up to meet Anne's blazing eyes. There was something different about them.. They were out of focus, and that was when I saw the opened wine bottles on her desk.

She was drunk.

"Will you _quit _it already, you little bitch?" she screeched. "You're giving me a pounding headache!"

"No, it's what you drank that's giving you a headache," I told her.

"And you still have the guts to talk back to me?" she shouted, her shrill voice raising by several decibels. Her breath stank. I looked at her, disgusted. Adults were always like that. They get drunk, and they scold you for no reason whatsoever. They were just so stupid! They were the ones telling us not to do bad things like smoking, but they themselves do it! And to think I was going to grow up to an adult some day!

"Yes!" I said, and lifted my chin defiantly.

"Why you little - "

"Dere, dere, she eez jus a child. You 'ad too much of ze vine." A man appeared out of nowhere and held her raised hand back. I looked at him curiously, and realised that he had been in the room with Anne. He slowly guided Anne's hand down and pushed her back into the room. "I vill settle de child," he told her. She nodded and staggered back to her desk.

The man quietly shut the door behind him.

"Vat do you want?" he asked me, crossing his hands. I took a minute to examine him, and pondered about who he was.

I think he was… German? His accent was really thick too.

"Gazzy's running around the orphanage with a match!" I said impatiently, his question snapping me back to reality. I hoped that by now the boys would have found him.

"So?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. I looked at him incredulously.

"What do you mean so?" I exclaimed. Time was running out – who knew what would happen?

"So vat do you want me, or Anne, to do?" he said.

"Stop him, of course!"

"How?"

"Do _something_!"

"Vat?"

"Stop him!"

"How?"

"ARGH!" I yelled and forgot about it. The adults in this place couldn't be counted on – one was drunk and the other was a nutcase that should have been in the Mental Hospital.

I turned on my heels and ran up the stairs without a second look back. I wondered how Anne would react when she woke up tomorrow morning with a ..hangunder.. or something. I shook my head, mentally reprimanding myself for digressing too much.

"Fang!" I shouted, the sound of my feet making contact with the carpeted ground going "thud" rhythmically. "Have you found him?" I hollered.

Suddenly, I became aware of a rather horrible stench that had reached my nose.

Gazzy. Gazz. Gas. _GAS. _What else could it have stood for?

Could it be?

I decided to chance it, even if it meant thinking that Blue Cheese was one of the most wondrous smells on Earth after inhaling _this_ exhaust. The Guiness World Records for Most Effective Way to Murder would have been broken.

I cautiously made my way around the corner, taking a deep breath before I ventured any further.

What I expected to see was a little kid in diapers who had just delivered a bomb. What I _didn't_ expect was Fang and Iggy passed out in the midst of a dissipating greenish-yellow cloud of ..fart?.. with a little blond boy giggling as he sat in between them, throwing a match up and down and catching it.

I quickly ran to the nearest window and took a deep breath of air, reveling in the freshness of it all. After this incident, I was certainly going to appreciate the smell of the surrounding air. No more complaining on my part. After I gulped in as much as I could, I ran back to the Mushroom-Cloud-of-Doom and attempted to pull both guys out.

I never knew boys were so light.

Either that or it's just me.

Anyway, I laboriously heaved Fang and Gazzy out and placed them under the window, which was thankfully quite large. It was right at the end of the hallway and it was open, so fresh air could enter this place. Gazzy was still playing with his match, and he giggled when it dropped on Fang's nose. I smiled, then, remembering Iggy, rushed back to get him.

I hoped that he would still be alive, I thought as I dragged him beside Fang.

They were still breathing, thank goodness.

"So, you haf found zem?" an annoyingly familiar German voice that I had heard earlier rang from behind me. Gazzy immediately kept quiet and looked at me with wide eyes. I shot him a reassuring smile, and thankfully he had the sense not to start crying.

"Yes, and you were of no help at all," I snapped snidely, and turned around.

What I saw was not much of a shock, really, after finding out that Anne drank. She was hanging off the man's right arm, a dopey expression on her face. It was apparent he was not drunk.

"I vanted to see 'ow strong you are," he said.

"Hey, hun, let's go back down and leave these kids here," she said seduc..seducksomethingly, her voice slurred, interrupting me.

"'ush now, love," he said. "I hav to 'ear vat dat girl 'as to say." Anne pouted, and shot me a murderous look for taking all the man's attention.

"Hurry then," she snapped. "I'll be waiting." She unhooked herself from his hand and started walking unevenly down the stairs. I could swear I heard her tumble down the last few steps. Serves her right.

"My name is ter Borcht," he uttered in that I'm-better-than-you tone of his, crossing his arms. "An' you mus be de feisty Maximum Ride."

"An' you mus be de stupid ass who decided not to help me," I remarked.

His eyebrow twitched.

Pissed him off, alright. I've hit the nail on the head. I remembered someone saying that I had an uncanny knack for doing that. Making people angry, that is.

"Like I said, I wanted to see 'ow strong you vere," he said. I could practically see the icicles drip off his voice.

"Nah, I bet _you_ were too weak to help me out, now weren't you?" By now, the smell was dissipating. I couldn't hear Gazzy, so I assumed that he was still afraid or something.

"Don you dare pees me off!" he warned, his temple throbbing dangerously.

"Aren't you already?" I pointed out.

"Yes I am! Thank you!" he shouted and stormed off, probably back to Anne. "Zis von't be de last you hear of me, I svear!" his voice faded.

Oooh, scary.

What a ninny. What kind of excuse was "I wanted to see how strong you were"? Geez, he should certainly get a life. But still, his last formidable words were resonating dangerously in my mind. I had a really bad feeling about that.

But what could such a nincompoop do anyway?

A small voice broke my train of thoughts, and I immediately turned around. Gazzy was still staring at me with those wide blue eyes of his, it was starting to freak me out. I gestured to my lap, and, getting the idea, Gazzy crawled towards me and sat on my lap.

"It's okay, that chimpanzee of a man wouldn't hurt you," I said as soothingly as I could. He looked at me with intelligent eyes, as if he understood what I was saying.

"Chimpanzeee," he said, and shook his head. "Chimpanzee bad. Bad bad bad."

"Yes, that chimp was very bad," I giggled. He was too adorable. What a little trooper.

"Next time I Winnie the Pooh chimpanzee!" Gazzy proclaimed. I looked at him, curious. Winnie the Pooh?

"AHHHH!!" Iggy bolted upright, and immediately turned his head left and right.

"Iggy, you're awake!" I said, thankful. He ignored me.

"Where's the Gasman? If I ever hear the phrase 'Winnie the Pooh' one last time, I'll never watch that show ever again!" he exclaimed, and stood up.

"You can watch shows?" I asked curiously, stroking Gazzy's hair as he started playing with his match again.

"No I can't," he said distractedly. "Is .. Is that Gazzy on your lap?" he asked, his voice suddenly turning terrified.

"Mhm," I said, "do you have any idea what he means by 'Winnie the Pooh'?"

"AHHHH!!" Iggy yelled and took off.

I stared at his back, an eyebrow raised. Talk about funny.

"W-what?" Fang muttered as he slowly propped himself up. "Geez, remind me never to be in the same room as Gazzy ever again," Fang said, opening his eyes blearily as if he had just woken up from deep slumber. That was when he seemed to take in the sight of the said Gasman sitting on my lap, playing happily with his match.

"I-I-h-he-i-i," Fang stuttered, got to his feet in a second and suddenly took off, as fast as Iggy. He didn't scream though. Not that I expected him to.

What _is_ with those boys?

"Gazzy, what is Winnie the Pooh anyway?" I asked him, standing up and carrying him in my arms. He giggled as I started walking towards our room.

"Fa-art bomb. BOOM!" he said, and stretched his arms out wide to demonstrate the 'Boom'. My eyes widened as I halted in my tracks. So Winnie the Pooh stood for a fart bomb? Then Gazzy was indeed responsible for the horrible smell that could wipe the entire human race out in seconds if used wrongly!

"Gazzy, no more Winnie the Pooh for you, okay?" I said in the strictest voice I could manage and started walking.

"Okay, Mommy," he said sweetly and I continued walking. Since I didn't know which room he belonged to, I figured that he could spend the rest of the day with Fang, Iggy and I.

Wait, did he just call me Mommy? I stopped in my tracks again.

"I'm not your mother, Gazzy," I said distractedly and tickled his nose, slowly walking again.

"Mommy no more, now you Mommy," he giggled.

The poor thing.

"I-if it makes you happy, then," I murmured quietly, almost to myself.

Gazzy didn't deserve to be in an orphanage - he was such a sweet kid, and I had only known him for less than an hour. He deserved so much more - a loving family, a proper home. Why did he have to end up in an orphanage? The poor dear.

Come to think of it, nobody really deserved to be in an orphanage. It was kind of sad, but we were all related somehow. We had each and every one of us lost dear ones, and pretty much knew how the other must be feeling.

Perhaps all of them were like that, except for me.

The loss of my parents was nothing to me. The only difference it made was the fact that I now resided in an orphanage with other similar children with different feelings and that I didn't have to go to the School anymore, I hope.

The School. I shudder at the very thought of that godforsaken place. The overly strong smell of antiseptic... The abnormally sharp needles... The whitecoats... And those kids in the cages.

Everytime I was forced into making a visit to the School, I would always have to walk past the room with the kids in the dog crates. Someone would always be screaming and shouting, rattling the cages to escape. Indeed, it scared me. But what was worse was to see those who huddled in a ball in the corner of their cages, like an empty shell, drained of hope.

It was frightening, and somehow, I was also grateful to my parents for not leaving me like that.

But that didn't mean I loved them or forgave them or whatever. They were getting money from the School for their experiments on me.

Yet, it didn't escape me that they had chosen to keep me instead of selling me completely to the School. Maybe they loved me, but didn't want to show it. Maybe they would earn more money by sending me there periodically compared to selling me there as a whole. The possibilities did not escape me, but speculations would do no good.

So I forced myself to forget. For for that very moment, I felt alone without my parents.

I should not be feeling like that.

"Mommy so quiet," Gazzy commented, snapping me out of my reverie. What an internal battle.

I kept quiet, and started stroking Gazzy's hair, reaching my room. When I arrived outside Room Magnolia, I quietly knocked on the door, for Gazzy had fallen asleep what with the pace of my walking and the fact that I started humming to him.

The door creaked open an inch, and Fang's face peeped out at me.

"Shh," I said quietly, and motioned for him to open the door to let me enter.

Fang shook his head earnestly, gesturing towards the sleeping Gasman. I shot him the bird with my free hand, and motioned kicking the door. I think he got the idea, after reluctantly letting the door creak open. I nodded my thanks and walked in, setting Gazzy on my bed.

"What is _he_ d - "

"Shush," I interrupted Iggy. "He's sleeping."

"Look who's turned Mummy," Fang remarked, and smirked. I ignored him. Boys will be boys after all. I moved towards them and plopped myself next to Iggy on his bed with Fang.

"So, he farted the Mushroom-Cloud-of-Doom and you guys fainted?" I asked quietly, stifling a giggle.

"Yeah," Iggy said sourly. Fang nodded in agreement.

"Well, he told me he wouldn't be Winnie-the-Poohing anytime soon," I told them, my voice firm. "There's no need to be afraid of him."

"Have you_ smelled_ that thing?!" Iggy said, aghast. Fang looked at me incredulously.

"Yeah," I said. "But he said he wouldn't do it again."

"Okay.. I trust you, Max," Fang said after a moment of silence. I smiled widely at him.

"Thanks Fang," I chirped, and used my knuckle to ruffle his hair. He dodged me playfully.

"Am I not here?" Iggy voiced sourly.

"Nope," I laughed. He grinned.

I really felt at home, at last.

That was when the door slammed open and Anne staggered in, holding a wine bottle loosely in her hands.

The danger censors flashed alarmingly in my mind. Iggy appeared frozen, and Fang was staring at her with his jaw dropped. Gazzy was still sleeping peacefully on my bed at the other side of the room.

Get to Gazzy, get to Gazzy, I chanted in my head.

"Hi, Anne...?" I said in a small voice, immediately afraid, my heart sinking as I took in the hazardous look in her eyes.

"Hello there, you little bitch," she said, and hurled her wine bottle in the direction of my little sleeping trooper.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you so very much! For reading, reviewing, putting RAC on your story alert and favourites! I'm rather happy, actually. :D Thanks so much. By the way, I just posted a oneshot titled "SuperAngel". It's quite long, and I really had fun doing it. Wouldn't hurt to do a little advertisement here, would it? Sorry, I'm shameless. :(

Summary for **SuperAngel**:_  
"After rotting away in front of the television watching The Powerpuff Girls, Angel decides it's time the world gets a real savior… guess who."_  
Haha. I'm not forcing you, just do check it out if you're free, and if you want to, kay? I'd really appreciate it. :D

Reviews are loved! :D

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any characters associated with the story. Neither do I own the first line of Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment. I would also like to credit Mo - The Reviewer. (For the "screaming TRUSTWORTHY" part. It was in a PM she sent me. Or was it a review reply? Either way, yeah :D)

* * *

I vaguely remember coming across this line that said, "The funny thing about facing imminent death is that it really snaps everything else into perspective."

Not my death, certainly. But the death of someone I cared about. You'd probably be going, _this weirdo cares about someone she's only met for a few minutes?_ Well, what would _you_ have done in my shoes, huh? Certainly not scream your lungs out and cry or something, right? Okay, maybe you would if you were a wimp. But you would have at least _tried_ getting to him. And Gazzy even called me his _mother_.

It was as if everything had gone slow-mo, like in those Matrix movies I used to hear about; I tried to block out all the voices as I dashed as fast as I could to protect the Gasman, my sleeping baby, but it was to no avail. Anne's shrill and harsh laugh pierced through the blanket I was trying to pull over my ears; Fang's shout of horror and Iggy's confusion too. It was all so, so, sickeningly clear. I could swear I even heard the sound the bottle made as it traveled through the air.

But what was on my mind the whole while was to get to Gazzy and protect him. Because I'm such a protective little mother, aren't I?

"Gazzy!" I screamed, hurling myself towards him. He tossed around in his slumber, not waking up. I was so close - the glass bottle was closer, and at the very last minute I lunged towards him and grabbed him in my arms, wrapping myself around him. I felt him start as I crashed heavily into the wall beside the bed, and that was the last I heard or felt before searing-white pain took over my body.

For that very moment, it was just me and the world. The pain. It was like thousands of knives tipped with poison slashing my back. I couldn't help but to let out a shriek of agony escape my mouth, before I gritted my teeth, trying to drive the pain out of my mind.

Anne's hysterical laugh and Fang's cry were faint in the distance. Now that I was trying to ignore the pain - trying being the operative word - all that mattered was that Gazzy was safe. Right?

"Gazzy.." I muttered, taking a lot of energy to do so. I pried my eyes open to look at his form, safely surrounded and wrapped between my arms. I sighed a small sigh in relief.

"Mommy!" he exclaimed, looking at me with those beautiful blue eyes of his. I smiled, and closed my eyes, tired.

I felt oddly drained, and tried to concentrate on the voices around me that were increasing by several decibels by the minute instead of the blackness that was starting to get more and more.

"Fang! What are you doing? Call the ambulance NOW!"

"Max! Max! Max? MAX!" I felt someone shake my body urgently. Fang's grip was vice-like, and his nails bit into my shoulders. I mentally winced.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Anne was laughing hysterically. Fang's hands left my shoulders.

"Why are you laughing, you insane witch? WHY DID YOU THROW THAT BOTTLE AT GAZZY?" Fang yelled. Anne continued laughing, completely in hysterics.

"You're on drugs, aren't you?" I heard Fang say, suddenly fearful. Anne continued laughing. She laughed. She just laughed. I could picture Fang getting a grip on himself before he shouted at her again. "Get off the floor, you coward! Look at what you've done!" Fang shouted at her. And what did she do?

She laughed even harder.

She was making Fang hurt. I didn't want him to be hurt. But I couldn't do anything about it. So I did the only thing I could do in my state.

I tuned the sound of her voice out and felt two little palms on my cheeks. They were warm. Very warm, in fact. Either that or I was really, really cold. I left my eyes closed, not wanting to force them open.

"Gazzy?" I said, hating how weak my voice sounded.

"Yes Mommy?" he asked, worry tainting his voice. I could imagine him looking as worried as an old grandmother, and a small chuckle escaped my mouth.

"Don't be sad, okay?" I whispered and smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

But before I could touch him, I was unwillingly pulled into the embrace of the warm arms of darkness.

* * *

It was quiet.

Too quiet, in fact. I could even hear the faint sound of the clock ticking in the far corner.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.  
_

I tried moving, but felt like lead. Something beside me moved. "Max? Max? Are you alright? MAX?" I dimly heard Fang say. He shook my shoulders roughly and urgently, and I stirred. "Max, don't die! Please! Don't die." I wanted to open my mouth to respond, but it felt so, so hard to do so.

"Now now, you should really stop doing that," a somewhat warm and motherly but stern voice reprimanded. "The dear's going to live, now stop acting like a little girl, boy. Any more shaking and she'll be as dumb as a dumbbell, her poor brain rattling in there and all."

Fang's arms left my shoulders and I heard him sobbing to the woman, who was comforting him kindly. Where was I, anyway? The last thing I remembered was.. Oh. I breathed in, only to smell the really really strong antiseptic smell. My heart suddenly skipped a beat and my palms positively turned clammy. Something was also poking in my arm.

I heard my dad say something which sounded like a curse, and I think it went sort of like, "Oh shit."

I bolted upright, ripping the IV and needles that were stuck in my arms and jumped off the bed, only to land on the ground in a collapsed heap as pain seared through my back. I writhed on the ground and a small scream escaped my lips before I gritted my teeth and willed myself to shut the hell up before any whitecoat realised that I had woken up.

Too late.

"Doctor!" the same motherly voice that had comforted Fang shouted, the urgency showing. I squeezed my eyes shut and curled into a ball as tightly as I could. Was this the end? Was I really back at the School? But why was Fang here?

Frankly speaking, I didn't want to linger to find out.

Then again, seeing that I felt like I was practically being burnt, what could I do?

Cold, small fingers tenderly touched my face.

"Max," Fang whispered. "Don't die. Don't die." I could picture his worried face, looking at me with concern. Huh, lots of picturing on my part, eh?

"Of course not," I said as loudly and snidely as I could manage. I wasn't that weak! Then, my voice faltered as I asked him the million-dollar question that I had been dying to find out the answer to. "Where are we?"

"Boy! Move away!" someone barked before Fang could answer. The male voice was low and full of command, and strong arms swooped down to carry me and prop me onto the bed again. "Really!" the man muttered as he started working on me. "Children these days."

I faded in and out of consciousness. I vaguely remembered opening my eyes and looking at the man in front of me. He had brown hair, that was cropped neatly and his eyes were green, like in those fairytales where the good folk are supposed to have green eyes and all. Despite the fact that his face looked worn and tired, it was full of concentration and warmth. He actually looked.. nice. When did the School start recruiting these kind of people anyway?

"Max?" Fang asked quietly after the doctor had left me in the care of the nurse. His voice.. It was as if he was trying to hold back all his emotions, such that he sounded actually dead. Monotonous. I opened my eyes worriedly. Why was he talking like that?

"Where are we?" I immediately asked him. His eyebrows raised questioningly, as if he was not expecting me to ask that.

"We're at a hospital, Max."

My heart sank. A hospital? The School was like a hospital... Maybe Fang didn't know. Of course he wouldn't know.

"Have you seen anything weird? Like, people in cages or screams from other rooms or something?" I interrogated, feeling like a cop. If the answer to that was yes... I dare not think of what would happen. But, the School wouldn't be that stupid to let visitors like Fang hear these sort of things. But what if they wanted to experiment on him as well? The possibilities ran through my mind and I was so caught up, I almost missed Fang's response.

"Max, did you hear what I said? I didn't hear or see anything like that," he responded, shooting me a curious look.

I guess I would have to stay on guard or something.

"Boy, the doctor's coming in again," a motherly-looking figure appeared at the doorway, gesturing towards Fang. "Oh, lookie here! Darling Max is awake! See now, I told you she wasn't going to die."

"Yeah..." Fang trailed off. The nurse probably got the hint that he didn't want to leave, for she informed Fang that the doctor wanted to speak to me alone. He scowled and reluctantly left my side, shooting a worried glance my way. I tried to smile to show him that I could handle it.

The doctor entered the room, a clipboard in hand and a stethoscope slung around his neck.

"Max - "

"Maximum Ride," I interrupted him before he could say my real name. Heck, Maximum Ride was my real name already to me. The doctor looked at me with a amused expression on his face.

"Maximum Ride it is, then. I'm Dr. Phil." He walked over beside the bed that I was on, sat down on a plastic, gray chair and consulted his clipboard.

"Where am I?" I asked him, deciding that he would be nice enough to actually tell me if he actually was a whitecoat. No harm in asking, right? Err.. I'll actually try to forget the whole 'curiosity killed the cat' thing.

"You're at the Jollyup Hospital," he responded. Sheesh, what a name. "And, young girl, you have a _lot_ of explaining to do."

I stared at him incredulously. Hello? I wasn't five! I'm ..alright, ten. But still! He's treating me like a kid! A little kid!

"I don't owe you any explanation," I finally said as he looked at me expectantly. "You saved my life, right, but you were just doing your job." The doctor chuckled.

"Quite the smart one, aren't you? Well, you _do_ owe me one thing - I didn't tell anyone about the air sacs or the wings."

The - holy freaking shit.

He knew.

But then again, the bottle _had_ cut my back after all.

My back... right. The place where my wings were located. I felt kind of stupid for not realising at all in the first place. He knew. Holy freaking SHIT.

I think I said that out loud, for he tutted disapprovingly and reprimanded me for cussing.

"You _do_ owe me an explanation now. I guessed it was a secret after all, and I didn't tell anyone," he said sincerely. "You should know that genetically experimentation on children is illegal."

"I - I- I- you - I - "

"Just tell me what happened. I promise I won't tell anyone."

I sized him up. I was never one to judge people, but my instincts and hunches were usually spot-on, and I decided that Dr. Phil could be trusted after all. I know it's weird for me to tell him about things that I'd keep from even Fang, but there's something about him that sorts of screams "TRUSTWORTHY". Maybe I'm funny like that.

So that was the day I finally let my feelings out and told my life story to a complete stranger that I had just met.

And you know what? It actually felt kind of good, to finally talk about the things that I had pushed back into the corner of my mind. I cursed, I talked, I cried, and Dr. Phil listened. It really does help, for people to listen to you when you have a problem. It really does.

So after I was done, Dr. Phil looked at me, a twinkle in his eye.

"Girl, you have got one of the most interesting stories that I have ever heard of. And it will stay here," he placed his palm over his heart, and I smiled gratefully. His expression then hardened considerably. "Now, time to do some things about that School you were talking about. Seems like a downright nasty place."

I shuddered and was tempted to say, "You have no idea."

Oh dang, I said it.

Dr. Phil laughed lightly, but it didn't reach his eyes like his previous ones did. We lapsed into a moment of silence.

"What will happen now?" I asked timidly. He looked at me curiously. "I mean like, will Anne be back?"

"Of course not! That freaking bitc- pardon my language," Dr. Phil said and closed his eyes, breathing heavily. "I hate it when adults are like that. They have so much power and yet they abuse it."

Me too. You would too, if you were the victim.

"She certainly won't be seeing daylight for many years to come," Dr. Phil said darkly. "Neither will that Borcht guy. I'll make sure of it. Now, if I'm not wrong, somebody else will take over your orphanage."

"Oh." We lapsed into another comfortable moment of silence. It was weird - we could actually click quite well. I observed Dr. Phil as he was deep in thought.

"You know, you're a real sweet kid," he smiled, talking slowly. "My wife's getting real lonely at home, and she really wants a child. I think she'd really like you like I do, and I'll take real good care of you. I promise I'll be nicer than your biological parents."

Huh? Where was he going with this?

Dr. Phil apparently saw the confusion on my face, for he grinned.

"I would like to adopt you, Max, if you actually consent to it. My wife and I will take real good care of you. And not to mention, I like you. You're pretty neat."

I stared at him in shock, my jaw dropped.

He wanted to adopt me?

That was.. okay.. but.. what about Fang and Gazzy and the rest? Would it be okay to leave them like this?

But Dr. Phil seemed so nice. I would be safe from the School forever and ever.

The doctor seemed to notice the internal war that was waging, and he laughed merrily.

"I'll give you some time to think, and when you're done just tell me alright?" he smiled and stood up. "Now I've been in here too long, I have other patients to attend to and that little boy's probably pining for you right now. Tell me when you've decided, okay?"

I could merely nod my head meekly.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks, for reading and/or reviewing! I'm missing some people! Stephanie Zorander, santaclausrules18, Chase Taylor Ride, jazz. x. bean, NothingButTrouble, and the rest of you people that I have not mentioned! :O WHERE ARE YOU??? Hahaha. Anyway, thanks to everyone else for reviewing!

Well, I'm stuck at home with seven days medical leave, as I apparently have "influenza-like illness". Boooo, and common tests are next week! Sigh, I'm going to miss out on so much. Well, I hope that doesn't chase you away - it can't be spread by computer. Heh. Now I have to wear a mask everywhere I go.. It's annoying I tell you. So I'll be like, cooped up in my bedroom all day long, rotting away in front of this computer screen..

Also, there are several awards going on at the moment (maybe you're sick of hearing this from other people, but I'm just telling you for your general awareness.. Heh.)** :**  
a) **Maximum Ride Fanfiction Awards: 2** by **Myrah**  
b) **Maximum Ride Awards** by **OutsideJokes**  
The links to them are on my profile, under "awesome places to check out". You could nominate your favourite author, stories, etc.

Thanks for reading anyway! Reviews would certainly be loved. :D

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

After Dr. Phil left, Fang immediately rushed into the room with a huge grin on his face.

"You're alive!" he smiled. "I _knew_ you weren't going to die and leave me alone!"

Leave him alone...

I'd be doing that if I allowed Dr. Phil to adopt me. I don't want to leave Fang alone..

I tried to smile, but I think it turned out as a sort of constipated grimace.

"Max?" his voice distinctly faltered. "Are you alright?" His worried eyes raked up and down the bed, as if looking for something that made me uncomfortable. The little dear.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" I said, putting on the most chirpy voice I could manage, and smiled.

"Awesome!" he smiled, buying the act. For that moment, we just..smiled at each other. I stared into his eyes, and he at mine. I think that if the nurse was watching us from outside, she'd probably be going, "Awwww." But whatever.

"So," Fang said, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "that was really brave of you to save Gazzy." His voice had suddenly gone really, really low. Like, the dangerous kind of low. I started to become afraid, as I had never seen Fang like this before.

"Mmm," I muttered, not knowing what else to say.

"I _hate_ Anne," he hissed angrily. "She made you hurt. She wanted to hurt Gazzy. She made me hurt by watching you hurt." He clenched his fist until the tendons showed. "She will pay."

I stared at him in shock. Well, it was obvious that Fang was going to be mad, but.. in reality it was just weird watching him get angry to this extent. He wasn't the cute, fun, gentle and caring person that I had first met when I arrived at the orphanage.

"It's okay, Fang," I said, trying to soothe him as much as possible. "I don't like her too, but she was drunk after all. I bet that German guy made her drunk."

"Huh," Fang muttered, obviously unconvinced.

"I mean, has she been like that before?" I asked him as the thought crossed my mind.

"I don't know," he shot me an uncertain glance. "Last time, I remembered that there was this one guy who was sent to the hospital also, but that was when I just came in so I didn't know, and didn't want to stick my nose into the business."

"Oh. Well, Dr. Phil said that Anne wouldn't be working in the orphanage anymore," I told him. Fang didn't look surprised.

"That's the price she has to pay. She'll be going to prison. That's too light for her, she should be hanged," he spat. I looked at Fang, astonished. When did he turn into such a bitter person?

Fang looked up and met my gaze, and his expression cleared to one void of emotion.

"Sorry," he apologised. "I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay," I replied. "I would have been mad too."

"I believe mad is an understatement," Fang uttered dryly, and I laughed uneasily. It was as if Fang had changed into another person. I hoped that I would get the old one back by the time we returned to the orphanage..

Or was I never going to meet him again?

I groaned, pressing my fingers to my temple. Why did Dr. Phil give me this predicament? It was good intention after all, but still! If he hadn't offered to adopt me, I wouldn't have to think about this in the first place, and it would have saved me all the trouble and headaches.

"What happened?" Fang asked, in the same emotionless tone that made me frightened. "It's like you have a huge Math problem that you can't solve."

"Really," I muttered.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. I considered it. Should I tell him? Well, it wouldn't do any harm telling anyway. _And_ he was my best friend.

"Dr. Phil wants to adopt me," I told him, looking at the sheets covering my legs and not daring to see how Fang would react. "And now I don't know what to do."

Silence. It was so quiet, I could hear a pin drop, and the sound of the ticking clock in the far corner returned to my ears.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock._

"Oh," Fang replied, hiding his hands behind his back.

Oh. Just an oh. That was it?

"What do you want me to say then?" Fang asked, his tone getting more bitter with every word. That was when I realised that I had said my thoughts out loud, _again_. Crap. "Go, and leave me and the rest alone? Go and have fun? Stay with the doctor and enjoy yourself while I lose my so called 'best friend' who chose to get adopted by some stupid doctor who saved her life?"

"Fang - " I started, but he interrupted me, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Go, just go. I don't care anymore. I hate you. I shouldn't have wasted that polaroid on you. I shouldn't have wasted my time worrying about you. I should have just let you go with the bullies."

Every word was a stab to my heart.

Stab. Stab. Slash. Stab. Stab. Slash. Stab.

"Fang - " I croaked.

Fang looked at me with indifference on his face. That got to me the most, and I could feel the tears prickling at the side of my eyes. Even a look of loathing would be better than that face he shot me.. It was as if I was just another person walking down the street that he happened to pass by. A look of loathing, hatred - at least that would acknowledge that he at least _knew _me.

"Fang, please - " He abruptly turned on his heels and the door slammed shut, leaving me to stare at the closed door with tears falling freely down my cheek.

* * *

"Max, there's a visitor for you," called Nurse Tandra, the one who had comforted Fang a few days ago, in her warm, friendly voice as she popped her head in by the door.

Fang.

No, no, no.

No Fang.

The past few days had been a blur for me. Nothing had entered my mind except for those harsh words that Fang had said to me on that fated day. After that, all I could think about was the betrayal that had oozed through his voice which I had not noticed before, the look of indifference he had shot me, the door slamming shut. People had come and go, but I never responded at all. I just stared in front of me, thinking of the days where Fang and I had been good friends.

The times when he had been worried about me joining Ari's gang. When he had pulled me down to eat. Finding him after Gazzy's fart bomb.

Soon, lesser and lesser people visited me, and now there were barely anybody. I reckoned that I had stayed at the hospital for about a week or so, as, after the day Dr. Phil talked to me about adoption, he had found out that the glass had cut into my spine and wing bones, which would take a very long time to heal and needed a lot of intensive medical care.

But even though I never responded to the visitors; the journalists, strangers after hearing of my predicament on the news, and such, I had always looked out to see who it was. I had hoped that every time the door opened, it would be Fang coming back in so that I could go on my knees and beg for him to forgive me, to apologise to him.

But no Fang.

So I just stared at the wall, imagining what it would be like if he had returned and forgiven me. I would have turned down Dr. Phil's offer and gone back to the orphanage to be with him.

But now, would it do good if I went back? What if he ignored me for the rest of my life over there? I could save myself from that misery by staying with Dr. Phil. I would make myself forget, slowly forget about him.

"Hello, Max." A gentle, low voice interrupted me from my thoughts. I turned my head to the person. He was a middle-aged man with graying hair, and was standing at my bedside. I looked at him unblinkingly, and turned back to staring at the wall in front of me.

"I'm Jeb Batchelder," he uttered. I continued staring at the wall. What, was I supposed to know who Jeb Batchelder was? "I'm here to take over Ms. Anne Walker as she is currently being detained in prison for child abuse, if I'm not wrong."

Those words went in one ear and out the other.

Batchelder.. Batchelder.. That name was so familiar.. The image of him had sparked something in my memory, but whatever it was, I could not remember. I didn't bother, anyway. It didn't matter.

He had a nice sort of aura to him, but it wasn't like the one that Dr. Phil had. It's like, Dr. Phil seemed to be nice through and through, but this Batchelder person seemed to be the kind to have a lot of secrets and hide things from people. I had learned to be wary of this kind of people. But what was I doing, analyzing him like this anyway?

"Max, why are you like this?" he asked tenderly.

Don't go there, Mister. You don't want to be treading on thin ice.

"Is it because of... Nick?" he asked. Nick? Who the heck was Ni - oh, Fang.

Fang.

No, no, no.

No Fang.

"I heard that Dr. Phil wanted to adopt you, but you have yet to give a response," Jeb prodded when he got no response from me. "If you decline that offer, you're going to be under my care."

His care? I preferred Dr. Phil to him anytime soon - at least Dr. Phil didn't prod.

"Max?"

I continued staring at the wall and concentrated on the sound the clock made.

_Tick, tock, tick, toc -_

"Why are you like this?" Jeb asked.

Fang.

No Fang..

"Dr. Phil said that you have been unresponsive ever since your friend stormed out of the hospital by himself and returned to the orphanage."

Fang.

No Fang.

"Is it really because of Nick? Or does your back hurt too much?"

Stop prodding.

Stop sticking your nose into other people's business.

"How close were you to Nick?"

Fang.

No Fang.

No more pain.

No more hurt.

"Very, I assume?"

"Shut the shit up," I told him, trying to be as nonchalant as possible without showing the hatred and annoyance. Jeb started, looking surprised.

"Max - "

"I said, shut the shit up," I turned my head towards him, and threw him the most loathing look that I could manage.

Well, he wanted me to respond; now he got it.

"Max - "

"I suggest you leave right now," I heard Dr. Phil say. His voice was really low and scary, and it was probably toeing the danger line.

"And you are?" Jeb asked pointedly, gesturing towards the doctor leaning by the door of my ward with his arms crossed.

"Isn't it blatantly obvious? I'm a doctor." Jeb flushed, and inside, I was cheering for Dr. Phil despite the fact that I pretended to continue staring at the wall. I was so rooting for Dr. Phil.

"I mean, what is your name?"

"Dr. Phil," he responded, his voice unnaturally icy and cold. Jeb heaved a sigh of relief, seemingly not noticing the tone that Dr. Phil had used with him. Either that, or he was ignoring it.

"Phil, why, I thought it was some other person who was going to hang my neck on the clothesline, with that look you had been shooting me," Jeb joked. "Now, young Max here won't cooperate, and I really need to know what happened back at the orphanage." He looked at me, an unfathomable expression on his face.

"Firstly," Dr. Phil pointed out, his face blacker than ever," It's _Doctor _Phil to you. Secondly, I _am_ going to hang your neck on the clothesline if you continue pestering Max here any longer. And thirdly, were you really? I heard you asking her for the reason for her unresponsiveness and provoking her so much that she cussed at you."

Jeb looked at Dr. Phil, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Go Dr. Phil!

"And finally, as you can see, you aren't welcome here, so you might as well leave right this instant and stop disturbing my patient," the doctor ended, his eyes blazing very, very dangerously.

I never ever wanted to be on the receiving end of Dr. Phil's bad moods.

The doctor stepped aside and gestured roughly to the door. Jeb's jaw tightened and his eyes hardened, and he bent down to grab a suitcase that I hadn't been aware was there and swooped out of the ward. Dr. Phil closed the door behind him and came back in after making sure that Jeb was gone.

"I cannot stand that man," he told me. "Seriously, acting as if he owned the world."

I laughed uneasily.

"He shouldn't have prodded his unnaturally large nose into your business in the first place."

I made a noise before composing myself.

"Well, you were really scary," I admitted. "Maybe you made him quake in his boots."

Dr. Phil looked surprised at a response from me, and a wide grin slowly began to form on his face.

"You're grinning like a Cheshire cat," I pointed out, trying to change the subject. "I don't really know why people use that term, though. Do Cheshire cats really smile the wide?"

"I don't know, Max," he told me. "I'll try to find out for you, though."

"Okay."

Dr. Phil walked towards the door, probably having more important patients to tend to. However, when his hand touched the doorknob, I called out again.

"Thanks for defending me against Jeb," I said quietly. Dr. Phil stood still and turned around, a twinkle in his eye.

"You're welcome, Max."

"And Dr. Phil?" I asked. "I'd like to stay with you."

A look of pleasant surprise crossed his face, and he smiled wider than before.

"Really? That's great to know, Max. What brought it on?"

"I dunno. Meeting Jeb, probably."

"Ah, I see. Well, I'll get your social service worker down tomorrow and we'll do all the legalizing. Are you sure that this is your final decision?" he asked me, cocking his head to the side.

No orphanage.

No more Ari and gang.

No busybody person like Jeb.

No meeting ter Borcht.

No more Fang.

What about Gazzy, Iggy and the rest though? They had been great friends after all. But if I went back, Fang would probably turn everyone against me anyway. I didn't want to share a room with two cold partners whom I knew hated me and would treat me like nothing, just like my parents.

So I decided to do the most selfish thing I could, to stop the pain. Even if it would hurt more now, it would be better in the long run. I would have people who would actually love me, for once in my life.

"Yeah."


	7. Chapter 7

Hello, thanks for the reading and all! :D

I find that the story has veered totally out of control.. but anyway, the problems with Jeb will come sooner or later. :/ Bleargh. Also, has anyone realised that Max had had to make a lot of choices so far? Life has given her so many choices, and the path that she chooses determines who she is.

Oh wow, that sounded really..philosophical. Eh. Never mind. I really hope that this story doesn't go under the cliched category..

And _yes_ I am aware of how short this chapter is. (Short of about 2,000 words than my usual..) I will return those 2,000 words in the following chapters.. But this _is_ necessary after all, and I felt like leaving you with a sort of cliffhanger. Heh. Reviews would _certainly_ be **loved**. -earsplitting grin- (And yes I did brush my teeth!)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

The long stretch of road seemed to be deserted except for a few people walking their dogs or jogging in the hot summer heat. Trees swayed to the left and right along with the occasional breeze that would sweep several fallen leaves into the air.

A girl was on the way home, talking animatedly with several other boys who were listening intently. They were walking slowly, enjoying the breeze and appeared to be deep in discussion, and had apparently just been released from school.

"I _told _you it was Jake," the girl said in an I-told-you-so tone. "You didn't believe me."

"Alright, alright," one of the three other guys laughed, and placed his hands up in the worldwide surrender position. He was good-looking and had light, wavy blonde hair that swayed with the breeze. "Next time you say something I'll believe you."

"Right," snorted another guy. His hair was dark brown and he had a squarish face that held a light tan. "Like that time she said she knew this person who could beat your stink-bomb fart record." All the guys roared in laughter, and the girl look merely amused.

"It's _true_!" she protested, a small smile on her face. It held a trace of sadness, but it seemed as if none of her companions realised that. A strand of her dirty-blonde hair flew into a face and she tucked it behind her ear.

"Sure, Max," the third of her male companions piped up in a patronizing tone. He wore rectangle spectacles, and had a nerdy look to his face. Max rolled her eyes in response.

"Really, I don't even know why I'm friends with a bunch of idiots like you," she snorted.

"Because you're one too," the first guy said and grinned. She punched him lightly on the shoulder, and he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. The other two guys whooped and wolf-whistled, definitely enjoying watching their female friend squirm.

"Let _go_ of me, you moron," she said. "I'll kick your ass till next Tuesday."

"How many times have we had this conversation, Max?" the nerdy person asked. "All three of us are way better than you. Except for Tim here, maybe." He shot a sideway glance at Brown-Hair, who rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, only in computer games," Max retorted.

"I may not be the best computer street fighter, but I could win you at chess any other day," Tim said. Blondie snorted and let go of Max, who had been struggling valiantly to do so, such that when he let go of her she fell onto the ground with a loud 'oomph'.

"Loser!" Nerd called, and the three guys laughed.

"You are so going to get it," Max threatened, her voice low and dark. Their moods abruptly changed, as they watched her warily. "Boo!" she shouted, and they started laughing. Max picked herself up and they strolled, stopping by the white fence of a house.

"Hey, Phil's back," Max said, looking over the large, neat lawn and at the direction of the said house. "Wanna come over?"

Nerd wolf-whistled suggestively, and Max rolled her eyes.

"Perv," Blonde accused.

The group of students continued bantering as they made their way into the rather large bungalow.

* * *

Unbeknown to the said group of students, two men were watching them from the interior of a car. The car was sleek, black and fast - it seemed as if it had jumped out of the spy movies that people usually watched on the television.

"Let's go," the younger of the two said, his low, deep voice sounding cold and hard. The older man knew better - it was just a facade, a mask he put on to hide the pain he felt. Oh, he knew him _very _well. Four years, it had been, since Maximum Ride had left. After that, Nick had been some sort of emotionless brick monster.

"Are you sure, Nick?" the older man with graying hair asked. "You were the one who wanted to come here in the first place."

"I said _go_, Batchelder," Nick growled. "She seems happy, anyway."

"You don't," Jeb Batchelder pointed out.

"So?" Nick looked at his companion incredulously. "Jeb, just _go_. I don't care anymore. She's happy. Fine. I don't want to ruin her life. And she has a bunch of other guy friends."

"Just give it a try, why don't you?" Jeb pushed, ignoring the somewhat jealous remark about the her other male friends. "What did you expect, anyway? After all that you said to her? Did you actually think that she'll still be moping around, pining for you after all these years?"

Nick clenched his fist into a ball so tightly that the tendons showed. He gritted his teeth, and his temple throbbed.

"You actually thought she would?" Jeb asked, his voice full of incredulity. He shook his head slowly. So, Nick had actually thought that the feeling would be mutual?

"Shut _up_!" Nick roared. "Just _go _already, will you?"

The car door then slammed, causing both men to jump in their seats, if it was actually possible.

"What was that?" Jeb asked, rubbing his head which had hit the top of the car with a rather loud thump when he had been taken by surprise. "Ow."

"How would I know?" his fellow companion replied scathingly. Jeb looked at the back of the car, and found it empty.

"Probably some other vehicle nearby," Jeb concluded. Nick nodded in agreement.

"Let's go. This place is getting on my nerves anyway." Nick put his shades back on, and stared out the front window. His voice returned to it's emotionless state.

Jeb raised his eyebrows, but did as Nick ordered and started the engine. Getting on his nerves, eh? He was sure it was not because of the weird door-slamming. The engine revved, and the car roared out of the street, leaving a rather large cloud of dust behind.

And, unbeknown to the two men that had just left, a little boy by the name of Gazzy.


	8. Chapter 8

**WARNING: SUPER LONG AUTHORS NOTE + FAQ LIST.**

IF YOU BELIEVE THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE THE CAPABILITY TO ABSORB ALL THE JUNK THAT I SPEW, IT IS ADVISED THAT YOU SKIP THE FIRST PART AND START READING CHAPTER 8 OF RAC BEFORE SCROLLING BACK UP TO READ WHAT I HAVE TO SAY.

**Oh, and review. I have cookies.**

* * *

I have had some feedback that the previous chapter was confusing, and that, in layman's term, there are many, many loopholes that I have left and apparently forgotten.** All will be explained in due time..** patience, my friends. I have not forgotten, I just like messing with your heads. (Whoops, did that slip out?)

I have created a FAQ list below, starting with the one that is the most frequently asked. You see, I like to keep people like _you_ in suspense, and let you think whatever you want. Then, at the ending, **-BAM!-** what you expect is totally different. At least, I'm aiming for that effect.. Whether I'm successful or not is another matter entirely. Anyway, do take a look at the list to see if it quenches your thirst about several matters, and thank you for reading and/or reviewing! :D

**FAQ: ***Note: I .. paraphrased.**  
Fang's really hyper and talks a lot, doesn't he?** (Beginning chapters)  
I got this a LOT when I started this story. Well, you just _have _to understand; he was **ten**. People can change over time. As you can see, I already had an explanation for that added to the story, right? Anyway, just for some unhappy readers, yes, he has changed. Max leaving him (sounds like she's dumping him, haha) made him sort of emotionally scarred, and because he realises that the reason she had left was because of his raged outburst, he is more careful with his emotions and keeps them in check.

**What about Angel, Nudge and the rest of the flock? -pouts-  
**This is for you, gypsyprincess94 and other concerned readers. I _assure_ you, they will come in later. _Now _I'm kind of concentrating more on Max's relationship with Fang first, because Fang is her sort of "link" to the other flock members - after all, she was new to the orphanage and Fang was the one who introduced her to others. So if no link with Fang, no link with others. Patience, my friends.

**Is this an all-human fic or something? You mentioned the School.. now I'm confused. -scratches head-  
**Read the previous chapter. However, as for the rest of the flock who are in the story.. I won't say just yet. Heh. Just, speculate and think whatever you think it is, and at the end when I explain bit by bit, let's see if the weird things I come up with matches yours, eh?

**Didn't Fang overreact a wee bit too much?** (Chp 6)  
Yes, he did, but to quote NothingButTrouble, "I think Fang overreacted a bit when he heard the news, but who wouldn't jump to conclusions?" (Okay, I admit, I didn't quote her directly. I just changed a full stop to a question mark!) Anyway, just put yourself in his shoes, if you can. I, for one, would certainly have jumped to conclusions. But, to quote Fuzzylogic11 (or her dad), "When you assume, you make an ass out of u and me." Well, Fang certainly did pay the price..

**Oh jeez, what if Dr. Phil was evil and stuff like Anne in the real books?  
**Well, looks like Max scraped through four years living with Dr. Phil without any ..problems, if that's the word. Evil guardians, mental people, sort of problems, you could say. She's still alive and going to school, isn't she? _But.. who knows?_

**Was the Voice the one that said, "So says Maximum Ride"?** (Chp 3)  
All will be revealed in due time, my dear friends. (Have I been saying that a lot?)

**I wonder what Ari is going to do to Max when she declines his offer to join the "gang"..? **(Chp 3)  
Okay got this from Mo- The Reviewer's review which was waaayyy, waaayyyy back. Well, looks like she didn't have to answer, after all, eh? I'm not going to tell you because -hint- he's going to make another appearance.. Oh joy..

**Why are all the bullies in the orphanage?  
**I certainly hope that I interpreted this question correctly. I'll reply by asking you something -- why are there bullies in school?

**Is this like a fastforward over the years to 14 years of age?** (Chp 7)  
Read on to find out, yeah? But, alright.. yes it is. :D

Well, I hope that _that_ answered some of your questions. Maybe I raised more. Heh. Now, I certainly hope that this story isn't beginning to sound like the typical "Flock kicks Max out" or "Max leaves the flock" type of the story, 'cause I don't read those. The past few chapters have been.. angsty, maybe, but now I'm **aiming** for more light-hearted chapters.

Note: I created community, a place for all the brilliant, amazing, non-cliched, fantastic stories that don't get enough reviews and attention. If you have suggestions for stories, or want to be a staff, do leave me a PM. I don't bite. (Staff needed: Unbiased people, who actually know and can differentiate between cliched and non-cliched. I must admit, 38DC was rather cliched. Heh. :/ Well, it was an experience. Every writer is entitled to writing at least one.. Heh.. Now I try not to write cliches, though. And I just found out the meaning to OMEC.. Oh My Edward Cullen, and I was like -.- Seriously.. Obsession, people. And for some weird, unfathomable reason, I feel very tempted to start an OC fic. However, I doubt that that would go well, since I have two stories to manage at the moment. :/ Okay, enough rambling.)

By the way, I am really sorry if Max sounded a little Brit.. Have been reading and writing too much Harry Potter.. Bleh. :/

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

It had been four years.

Four years since I left the orphanage.

Four years since Dr. Phil and his wife adopted me.

Four years since I last saw Fang. And Gazzy, Iggy, and the rest of the children in the orphanage.

Four years was a very, very, _very_ long time.

I have to admit - Dr. Phil and Judy, his wife, were the _bomb_. They were the loving parents I never had, the caring friends I had been so deprived of, the constant companions I could always rely on, and the shelter and protection I had never gotten from any other person.

They gave me a new life.

No matter how cheesy that sounded, yes, they did. I had been a wreck when I first arrived with them. The last time I had seen Fang was when he stormed out of my ward in the hospital, and after that I hadn't dared to return to the orphanage myself to collect my stuff. Dr. Phil had done it for me, on my request. I could still remember the curious look he shot me, but he didn't ask any questions.

That was what I liked most about them, really. They didn't prod.

Our relationship was kind of simple, actually. They trusted me and know I have a conscience, I know they trust me and know that I have a conscience, and my conscience just had to be too good. I was actually a very well-behaved kid for the past few years, I must admit. Except for that time I put slugs in Vernon's meal, maybe. Or that time when I pulled the emergency fire thing. But that was way before my conscience decided to get a conscience. Now tell me if that made sense.

Judy worked as the manager of a supermarket - now don't you go hold your nose and look down on her. By golly, she earns quite a hefty sum of money there, sometimes even surpassing Dr. Phil's salary; which, might I add, was very high due to his profession and years working in it. But don't let that fool you - Dr. Phil and Judy only spent on what was necessary, and only very rarely they overindulged. But I still led a rather relaxed and comfortable life. It's a wonder I wasn't spoiled already.

Now, where was I? Oh right, they gave me new life.

I had been such a wreck when I arrived. Reality hadn't seemed to set in until the night I moved in, and I remember sobbing my eyes out. Judy had comforted me and made me sleep with her and her husband - really, now I blush at the very thought. They had convinced me to go to school - I did. But I didn't talk, didn't do anything really. Just.. lived.

The first few weeks of school had been horror. Learning with a bunch of ten-year-olds - I shudder at the very thought. Because of the fact that I had joined late, naturally I was rather outcasted, and just did things alone. That was until one day, when I tripped and fell, Tim held out a hand.

And after that, I had a bunch of new friends. It was like the orphanage relived all over again, just with different people and different situations. Fang held out a hand to me, and so did Tim. Fang introduced me to several other friends, and so did Tim. But Tim would never be Fang.

Tim was a nerd, even though he didn't look like it. He was your avid bookworm - always talking about Harry Potter and all that. Nathan, on the other hand, was a rather weird creature to explain. He was a computer geek who was an extraordinarily good football player. Now what do you call that? Though most people actually see him as a nerd, because of his spectacles. And, well, Terrence was the worst of the lot. To sum it all - big-headed, arrogant freak, who, gladly, had toned down after a severe ..yelling session with me. Sometimes he just acts like a snub, but he's cool.

Well, we made a sort of group name - TMNT. Like, y'know, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Tim Max Nathan Terrence. That's ten-year-olds for you. Ridiculous. To wonder I had been one.. But after that we were sort of the closet friends anyone could ever imagine.

But nobody got as close to me as Fang.

It's weird, how much he could affect me. I had known him less than a week and the other guys more than three years, yet Fang was the one who surpassed them in my books.

I'm just way too freaking _pathetic_.

_Every_ freaking night I think about him, even when I try to force him out of my mind. I always replayed the first time we met - he held out his hand, holding that photo of my family to me. Us snapping a polaroid together. Him telling me about the bullies.

Well, at least one good thing I got out of moving out of the orphanage was not having to answer those bullies. Though I'd certainly like to meet Ari now and see if he's still the ugly cocky moron of a guy he had been in the past. He had probably turned out as some fat pig anyway. And what had been with that _wolf_ thing, man?

But, well, reminiscing about the past won't do anything at all, except for looking for things to express regret for and the hurt, of thinking what might have been.

I had considered the idea of going back to the orphanage, but hadn't had the guts to do so. The 'what ifs' danced in my mind - What if Fang had another family already? What if the Gasman killed some random people with that ability of his and had been sent to a detention centre? (Highly unlikely but still possible..) What if Iggy had gotten his eyesight back? What if Ari was still there? What if nobody remembered me?

The good ones and the bad ones.. I had heard of the saying, "He who asks is a fool for five minutes, but he who does not ask remains a fool forever."

Looks like I'll remain a fool forever, then. How nice to know.

"Yo, Maaaaxxxx? Max? Maaax? Are you even listening?" Terrence's annoyed voice broke me from my rather long train of thoughts. I blinked.

"Dude, I think she just spaced out," Nathan laughed, and I rolled my eyes in response.

"What did I miss?" I asked. We were in my room, and were seated at our favourite places. The guys usually hung out here, for some unfathomable reason. I was lying on my bed, and had apparently been 'spacing out', if that's the term.

"Nothing much, really. Terry was going on about how he swooned this girl in school." Tim sniffed. He shifted around on the baby-blue coloured beanbag. "Really, I don't give a damn."

"Tim!" protested his friend. "She had the biggest - "

"AHEM," I coughed.

"Right, _you_ have the biggest -"

"Oh really, Terry. Grow up," I snorted.

"I think this is as far as he can get," Nathan whispered loudly, slowly nodding his head with his eyes wide. Tim threw a crushed ball of paper at his head and I laughed.

Just then, the doorbell rang loudly throughout the house. Nathan winced.

"Wonder who could that be," I mused, running a list of possible people, and ending up at a blank. Who would visit at such a time? "Probably some visitor Dr. Phil has," I concluded, "better tone down, yeah."

"Sure. Now, do you want to know how I swooned that girl or not?" Terry looked at me expectantly, as if expecting me to say yes. Before I had time to burst his little bubble of happiness, however, someone knocked on the door and interrupted us. The door opened a crack and Judy's head poked through.

"Max? Can you come outside for a moment? The guys can stay in there," she called.

"O..kay?" I said, ending off with a question mark. I looked at my friends, exchanging puzzled looks. I shrugged, and followed Judy outside into the hallway. The door shut with an audible click. She started walking, and I followed.

"Now, do you know a little boy by the name of Zephyr?" she asked me, as we went down the stairs at a not-too-slow pace.

"No?" I replied. "How would I know someone younger than me, anyway?" I rarely even talked to other people except for those in my year.

"I don't know, but he claims to know you. Just have a look and see if you recognise him or something, alright?" We had reached the bottom of the flight of stairs, and Judy headed towards the kitchen. "I'll be in the kitchen. Just give me a holler."

"Sure," I said, and walked towards the living room.

A little boy, who was probably eight or nine, was sitting on the couch quietly looking at a photo of Dr. Phil, Judy and I that was placed on the coffee table facing the couch. He had blonde hair, and his form rang a bell, though I could not place a finger to it.

"Um, hello?" I started uncertainly. The boy looked up, and I met startling blue eyes.

Blue eyes.

No, it can't be.

"Hi, Max," the boy said, and stood up. He took a few tentative steps forward, and held out a hand.

It couldn't be at all.

"H-how do you know my name?" I asked, unconsciously taking a step back and ignoring his hand. "Do I know you?"

The boy returned his hand to his side when he realised that I wasn't going to shake it, and he sighed audibly. He looked at me intensely, and his gaze was penetrating and mature for one so young.

"I believe so."

* * *

"Nick."

Fang gave a non-committal jerk of his head, as if asking the person to say what he wanted to say. He was sitting on his bed and staring out the window at the younger children playing happily at the mini-playground located at the back of the orphanage. He remembered seeing a photo frame fly out of the window of the very room he was in land onto the ground, the glass shattering. He had tentatively picked it up, hoping that some other random flying object wouldn't appear and hit him on the head. He had brushed the shattered glass aside, and looked at the picture of a family to three.

"Nick, I need to talk to you."

"Then talk, Batchelder," Fang said, switching his gaze to the older man who was standing by the frame of the door. Jeb Batchelder hadn't been any better from Anne, really. Or maybe they were different, but Fang didn't care. Either way, yeah, he didn't care at all. He also did not hold much respect for Jeb.

Jeb walked in and Fang looked outside again, watching the children play a game of tag. The bed creaked and Fang felt a weight on the other end as Jeb sat down. Fang sighed and gave Jeb his full attention.

"I don't know how to say this, but, well, you've really got to move on," Jeb started. "Look, they're many other girls here, Nick. I still don't get why you're pining over Maxine, after so many years. She has moved on, and it's time you do."

Fang stared at Jeb, and his gaze was so cold that Jeb broke the eye contact to look at his own hands.

"Who's Maxine?" Fang finally said emotionlessly.

"Oh, you very well know who she is," Jeb said, betraying a hint of impatience.

"I don't know anybody called Maxine," Fang ended, and turned his head to look out the window again. One of the younger kids had fallen down, and was sobbing miserably.

"Fine then, Maximum Ride. Name sounds familiar, _Fang_?" Jeb asked, a trace of contempt in his voice. Fang snapped at the provocation turned his head towards Jeb.

"Shut up," Fang hissed. "Don't you _ever_ call me that."

"Why not?" Jeb continued prodding.

"CAN YOU JUST SHUT THE FREAK UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? HUH?" Fang was on his feet, and was breathing heavily. He shut his eyes, turned away from Jeb, and held the bridge of his nose between his thumb and third finger. _No emotions, no emotions_.

They lapsed into short silence after Fang's outburst, and stayed at the current position they were at. Jeb made no move to leave, and Fang made no move to move either.

After Max left, Fang hadn't allowed anyone to call him by that name ever again. Everytime they said it, he only remembered the way Max said his name. He liked the sound of his voice when she said it. Max, Max, Max.

Max.

SHUT UP.

STUPID BRAIN.

STOP THINKING ABOUT HER.

STOP IT.

STUPID BRAIN.

STUPID MAX.

WHY DID YOU EVEN ENTER MY LIFE IN THE FIRST PLACE?

HOW COULD YOU JUST LEAVE WITHOUT EVEN SAYING GOODBYE?

I'M .. sorry.

Sorry for shouting at you.

Sorry for walking out on you.

Sorry for making you cry.

DAMN IT MAX, I'M SO SORRY.

So, so sorry.

I wish I could tell you that.

But I'm so afraid..

Afraid that you'll just push me away.

Max, Max, Max.

OH SHUT UP!

Shutupshutupshutupshutup_shutthehellup_!

STOP THINKING ABOUT HER, DAMMIT!

"I heard everyone called you that in the past," Jeb said quietly and looked over at Fang's stiff body as he stopped his train of thoughts.

Fang paused, and let his hand fall to his side.

"This isn't the past anymore," he said stiffly, still facing the opposite wall. _But I can't forget..._ Jeb's response served as a surprise to him.

"_Exactly_ my point," Jeb uttered earnestly. "Nick, this _isn't_ the past anymore. Stop dwelling on it."

"What's it to you anyway?" Fang snapped. "It's none of your business."

"Oh yes it is," Jeb remarked vaguely.

"Whatever," Fang muttered, and turned towards the door. "I don't care if you're done or not, bye."

And with that, he turned on his back and walked briskly out of the room towards the third floor, Jeb making no attempt to stop him. If he had followed, he would have seen Fang making his way to the top floor of the orphanage. He stood behind the large window at the end of the hallway and looked out, watching the trees sway. This window faced the front of the orphanage, and he could only see the empty lawn and path leading towards the door. Fang shrugged off his sweater, climbed onto the rather large window sill, and jumped.

* * *

It had been hard, getting here. He had had to sneak into the car without being caught by Fang and Mr. B, and subsequently out without being caught. Oh, it had been hard, but he had thankfully managed to do that with the aid of a few strokes of luck on his side. But now that he was here, not exactly facing her, but going to, his mind was blank and everything that he had planned to say before had traitorously deserted him.

He missed Max terribly. Fang definitely missed her too, and it was rather obvious, really. Zephyr still could remember that day when he stormed back to the orphanage with the new manager, Jeb Batchelder in a rage. He had been with Iggy, and remembered him asking Fang if he was alright.

Fang had answered with a short 'no'. The next day, Mr. B had told Fang that Max had been adopted by the doctor at the hospital, and added on that she said that she never wanted to see him ever again. The next day, the doctor came to collect her stuff and after that, Fang was never the same again.

Zephyr gazed absently at a picture on the coffee table. Max looked.. older. And more matured. More like a mother, really. She had a real smile on her face, like the time when she had talked to him about "Winnie the Poohs" before carrying him up to her room.

That was so long ago, yet he could remember it all so clearly.

Zephyr hated growing up. But he had to, ever since Mr. B showed favouritism towards Ari and his gang, and they started doing whatever they liked which included beating younger people up.

For some reason or another, Zephyr had taken it as his duty to protect the younger children from them.

Maybe it had been the arrival of his sister. Maybe it had been because of Max hurting herself to protect him and he wanted to do that for others. Maybe because he had the sense to do something to stand up against the bully. Whatever reason it was, he took it as his responsibility to do so. Iggy had only been interested in his bombs lately, and Fang was just.. a living zombie. Nudge wasn't much of a help, really.

"Um, hello?" Those words coming from a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts, and Zephyr looked up from the frame to see Max. Her long, dirty-blonde hair was tied up in a messy ponytail and she was dressed in a shirt with jeans. Nothing too girly.

"Hi, Max," he said, and stood up, wanting to shake her hand. He held his hand out - it was trembling slightly; he mentally winced and hoped that Max wouldn't notice. He had the urge to run up to her and hug her and cry, "Mommy", but Zephyr didn't think that that would go very well. Not at all.

"H-how do you know my name?" Her eyes went wide and she looked him up and down, before taking a step back. Zephyr felt his heart sink - had she really forgotten? "Do I know you?"

Zephyr realised that she was too shaken to take his hand, so he let it fall limply to his side. He sighed, wondering if this was a lost cause, and met her eyes, willing her to remember.

"I believe so," he said, and her eyes went wide as she took another step back.

"G-Gazzy." The word was a rasped whisper. Zephyr smiled, his heart filled with sudden hope.

"No one has called me that for a long time," he told her and she tried to smile - tried being the operative word; she looked as if she merely had a bad toothache. "I'm not stopping you, though," he added as an afterthought.

A strange sound escaped from her mouth.

"Are you alright?" Zephyr asked worriedly, walking to her side. "You don't seem well."

"I think she's just in shock." He turned around to see the woman who had opened the door to him smile kindly. He also recognised her from the photo that he had examined earlier.

"Um."

"It's okay," she said. "I would have been, too. Come on, Max." She led Max back to the sofa, and sat her down before bringing out two steaming glasses of hot Milo. "Here, drink up," she told Max, who was staring at the wall opposite her, her face rather pale. "You too," she addressed Zephyr. He nodded in thanks and sipped the drink - it was nice after having nothing to drink at all for the past two hours cooped up in the car.

"So, while Max has time to absorb your sudden appearance, why are you here?" the person asked. "Oh, I'm Judy, by the way." Zephyr put his hot cup of Milo down onto the coffee table.

"I'm here just to visit," he said softly and earnestly, glancing at Max. "It has been such a long time. The last time I saw her was when I was four years old. I vaguely remember calling her 'Mommy' though." He laughed, but Judy could see that it did not reach his eyes.

"That's.. nice. She hasn't had anyone come visit, really. So how's the orphanage?"

"It's fine. Mr. B isn't that good, but at least he doesn't throw objects at people." Judy seemed bewildered by his statement, but merely blinked and smiled politely.

"Gazzy, why did you come?" Max rasped from her seat. Judy's and Zephyr's eyes flicked to her instantly. He paused momentarily, as if choosing his words carefully.

"Because.. I wanted to ask you for a favour. I know it's a lot to ask, since you saved my life and all, but it's really important," Zephyr said earnestly.

"And?" Max continued. Zephyr took a deep breath and exhaled slowly - he was probably going to tread on thin ice, if that was how she reacted to him.

"Is it okay if you make a visit to the orphanage?" he asked. "To, you know, talk to old friends and all."

Max looked at him oddly, as if wondering if they were still there at all.

"Do you remember Nick?" he asked. She stared at him, confused.

"Nick? From the orphanage? No..?" She scratched her head, trying to recall. Zephyr looked at her, confused. Nick.. Oh.

"Fang," he corrected himself. Max, who was reaching for her hot Milo that she had put down on the coffee table previously, froze.

"You remember?" the eight-year-old asked. Max jerked her head up in response, and Zephyr took that as a yes.

"He.. he's been a wreck ever since you left," he said quietly. "He actually came to see you just now."

"H-h-h-he did?" she squeaked. Judy watched as the two exchanged words, it was as if they had forgotten her. She didn't mind, but worried for her foster daughter, who was acting very out of character.

"And he left after seeing you walk home with some guys." Max's face suddenly looked constipated. _And Terry was hugging me.._

"Um, you know what, they guys are probably bored upstairs, gotta go now bye," Max uttered in a rush, stood up and ran up the stairs two steps at a time. She stood at the hallway right beside the door to her room, and pressed herself against the wall, closing her eyes.

Fang had come to see her..

Downstairs, Zephyr was staring at the flight of stairs helplessly.

"I.. Well, I think I'd better be going then," he said sadly. Judy's heart went out for the boy.

"I'll try my best to persuade her, how about that?" she said. He smiled, but it didn't reach his blue eyes.

"Thanks," he said and they walked towards the door.

"How are you going to get back? Is anyone fetching you?" she asked kindly as she opened the door.

"Oh crap."

* * *

"You know, we won't be able to keep this up any longer, right?" Nathan remarked. It was a sort of rhetorical question, and the way he said it was in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Well, you all are pretty good candidates too," Tim said. "I don't know what the chances are for me, but really, Terry, I doubt she'll choose you." The blonde looked at his fellow companion and long-time friend, and smiled a small smile.

"Who knows?" For once, the guys nodded in agreement as they thought about those two words. Maximum Ride was an unpredictable girl - they had learned that from the past years together. Whenever you expected her to do something, she doesn't. It was better to expect her to do the unexpected, really.

"But, whatever it is, fight fair and no hurting Max," Tim said. "We're all respectable young men, and should stay ourselves and not put up some false front just for Max."

"You sound like Pruitt," Terrence commented, and wrinkled his nose.

"At least he doesn't go purple all the time," Nathan said snidely, and the tension eased as the boys laughed.

Little did they know that the girl of their affections had been outside, listening to their every word, and had subsequently sunken to the floor, burying her face in her hands, wondering if it was just her or whether life was just bloody unfair.

* * *

_Coming soon: Max makes a long overdue visit to the orphanage._

I know that several readers are not happy with the current developments; I _am_ sorry about that. Maybe I'll lose a few readers, maybe all, but just to let you know, I _am_ going to write for myself so I'm really sorry if you don't like it.

Reviews would certainly be loved.


	9. Chapter 9

I'M ALIVE!!

Thanks for reading and for the reviews! I sincerely apologise for being MIA for ages. Thanks for being patient. My Microsoft Word crashed, and I haven't been able to use it for quite some time. Lost my drive after that. But now I'm back. :D I hope that this chapter wasn't too choppy. I was happy with some parts, and wasn't with some others. Either way, yeah it's here.

I vaguely remember saying that Max will make a long overdue visit to the orphanage. Well, hahaha. That was under coming soon. And coming soon it is.. Just not here, ey? She's in the midst of making the visit - at the very beginning. :D Sorry if I cheated your feelings..

I greatly apologise for that really really lame "Previously, on R. A. C.." section. I was imagining it like a recap of a TV show. Hahaha. You know.. "Previously, on Avatar.." Hahaha. Yes, I watch that show and I love it. It's really funny. (And the Suite Life of Zack & Cody/ Suite Life On Deck! Oh, my gosh they never fail to make me crack up!)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

**Previously, on R. A. C..**

_--Four years since I last saw Fang. And Gazzy, Iggy, and the rest of the children in the orphanage.--_

_--"Um, hello?" I started uncertainly. The boy looked up, and I met startling blue eyes.--_

_--"This isn't the past anymore," Fang said stiffly.--_

_--"G-Gazzy." The word was a rasped whisper. Zephyr smiled, his heart filled with sudden hope.--_

_--"But, whatever it is, fight fair and no hurting Max," Tim said. "We're all respectable young men, and should stay ourselves and not put up some false front just for Max."--_

_--It had been four years.--_

_..Four years.._

_..four years.. (echoes and fades away..)  
_

* * *

When he was a little kid, Jeff had always wanted to be an astronaut.

He had always dreamed of building his own rocket, with the best engines and propellant in the world. He had dreamed of being the one to fly his own invention into outer space.

And that dream had been shattered the day he lost his sight.

Of course, what did he expect? Who in the right mind would let the blind kid fly a rocket, let alone go anywhere by himself? He had even been denied access to the _bumper car_ rides at a funfair. So how could he ever expect to even _touch_, let alone go near a rocket?

And yet, somehow, he had never given up hope. He had, but he hadn't. He had given up hope of flying a rocket to space, but he had continued experimenting to create that proper explosion that would propel the world's best rocket into space. World's to-be best rocket.

He resented the fact that his parents had been killed and his eyesight had been taken. Who had to be so unfair, so cruel and heartless to take away two of the most important things to a child his age then?

Jeff had never told anyone that the car crash his parents had died in was no accident.

What was the point, after all? To derive more sympathy than he already had from these people? No, he didn't want to feel weak. Nobody could imagine what it was like unless they were essentially blind themselves. When they found out about his condition, which he didn't want to reveal unless it was really necessary or obvious, their responses were always the same.

"I'm sorry." Those two, hollow, empty words.

Sorry for what? The fact that he lost his parents? Everyone was going to lose someone some time or another. All that differed was the amount of time they had to spend together. So.. what were they sorry about? His lost eyesight?

Jeff almost laughed.

They knew what he didn't have. They didn't know what he had.

_Wings_. He had wings. He had the chance to experience the sweet glory of flight whenever he wanted to.

Honestly though, he had hated them, for most of his life. That was, until he realised that he could actually _use_ them.

Yes, he hadn't known that he could actually fly with those wings.

His parents had drilled into him that he was a _freak_, an abomination of the world, with those wings. Once only, though, but it had been thorough. Of course, back then, despite that, he still loved them nonetheless, but he had always wondered what was wrong with having two extra limbs sticking out of his back.

And then he realised that nobody else had them.

So Jeff kept his two extra limbs a secret, never using them for fear of being discriminated against, or losing his friends. That was, until the day he decided to jump from the top level of the orphanage the day he received the news that Max left.

So why would he need to fly a rocket when he had _wings_?

But yet, he had never stopped looking for that explosion..

"Are you done thinking?" Jeb Batchelder asked briefly and tonelessly. Jeff snapped back to the present, as he remembered where he was and who he was with. Jeb Batchelder.

There was no shuffling of feet, no anxiety, no impatience, nothing. No irrational movement to show his feelings; no finger tapping, just absolutely nothing. From all he could gather, Jeff figured that Jeb was sitting motionlessly on his chair. Emotionless. Just like Fang. Correction: Just like Fang after Max left. Either way, Jeff had no sight to look at him eye-to-eye. All he had for company was the cold sound of his voice.

Jeff hesitated slightly before he nodded sharply.

"So is this an agreement?" Jeb asked, and Jeff detected a trace of excitement in his voice. Just a trace. Was he that much of a sadist?

But, no matter what, he was bent against _her_. So Jeff nodded his head again.

"Good. Speak to no one about this." It was an order, Jeff could tell. He was annoyed at being ordered around, but he merely nodded his head again, trying his best to avoid a confrontation.

"One more thing, though.." Jeff interjected, before Jeb could leave his seat.

"What?" Jeb barked. Many unsaid thoughts lingered behind that one word, and Jeff smiled and leaned forward, putting his two index fingers together for effect.

"I just wanted to make this clear," he started, and lifted his head to let Jeb meet his eyes.

The said man made no obvious movement.

"I am doing this out of my own free will. I am in to way whatsoever bound to you, and have only agreed to do.. _that_. That. Is. It." Jeff sat back straight in his chair. "Is that clear?" In other words, _I'm in charge here, not you, asshole. You don't own me and I'm just doing this because I want to and get that into your effing head._ But it wasn't good to be rude. Be subtle - that way, it sounds more dangerous.

Oh, Jeff knew his stuff alright.

There was a lingering silence for a moment, but he knew he was going to get a response soon enough.

"And I trust you to keep your word," Jeb murmured quietly, and stood up, scraping the chair across the ground. He walked to the door and opened it, leaving Jeff seated there, contented. "Remember how you came to be, .._Iggy_."

Jeff wondered if Jeb had used that past name for dramatic effect. Whatever it was, it did nothing to impact him in any way whatsoever.

"Indeed, I will."

Jeff had always wanted to be an astronaut.

And now, because of those wings, those wings he had _hated_ for so long, it was possible. He could fly into space. He could actually fly into space! And it was these people.. these people Jeb Batchelder was working with that gave him these miraculous wings.

_And it was these people who took your parents away.. Took your sight away.._

He was never going to forget that.

But he had made an agreement, and he was going to stick to his word.

Jeff was a bitter person. Of course he was. But he still remembered those days when he wasn't.. He had been so naive and childish back then. Therefore, when he looked back now, it had been of great thanks that Jeb Batchelder had arrived and told him that he was the reason Max left the orphanage. He had chased her away. She hadn't wanted to live in the same place with a "stupid, good-for-nothing blind kid".

Of course not.

* * *

"He's coming."

Nudge looked at little Angel, surprise evident on her face. The younger girl grinned, showing her baby teeth. Angel had shown the ability to do highly unnatural things very often, and she had never failed to confound Nudge with each and every incident.

"How do you know?" Nudge whispered quietly to the little six-year-old and glanced at the door of the all-too-tiny closet that they both were hiding in. The space was cramped, but at least it was somewhere to hide. Angel smiled at the older mocha-coloured girl.

"I just know."

"You should really teach me that some day," Nudge breathed quietly. "What if he's coming and I'm alone?" Angel's eyes widened in horror at the prospect. She set her jaws and opened her mouth in protest.

"I'll try to!" she whispered fiercely. "I don't want you to mmmph - "

Angel was silenced by Nudge's palm wrapped around her mouth. She didn't struggle - she knew that Nudge had heard something. Something that, hopefully, wasn't _him_.

Footsteps. That was it: footsteps. There were footsteps in the distance that was getting louder by each step. The pause between each step was substantially long, and one could assume that the person was walking with long strides. Along with those footsteps came the unpleasant sound of someone whistling loudly and tunelessly.

Nudge and Angel exchanged equal looks of terror.

Those were the signs.

It was _him_.

Nudge closed her eyes and hoped that he wouldn't think of opening the tiny closet. She hoped that he was feeling more complacent than he usually was today and think that those two girls out of the many he bullied daily were so fat they couldn't fit into a closet of that size. But it was all wishful thinking..

The steps got louder and soon stopped in the room. Angel and Nudge were barely breathing.

_Please don't find us, please don't find us._

Nudge shot a look at Angel, who had her eyelids squeezed tightly shut. The footsteps got closer and closer to the closet. What would be today's torture? They both were obviously found. It was a wonder he hadn't laughed already.

Then, miraculously, after what seemed like an eternity of silence, Ari Batchelder walked away and out of the room.

Nudge slowly let out her breath, which she hadn't realised was bated. She took care to remain silent though, for for all she could know, he was just waiting outside to pounce on both of them like the prey they were.

Angel shared a look with Nudge.

They were lucky.

Tomorrow would be a different matter.

Zephyr had gone missing. He didn't visit the two of them at eight A. M. on the dot that morning, like he usually did. He didn't go down for breakfast or lunch that afternoon. He was nowhere to be found, and Nudge and Angel had asked everyone they met.

And the thing was that nobody really cared, except for the few whom he took good care of. Mr. Batchelder didn't care at all. All he did was stay in his room. Sometimes he would walk around and look at people. If someone fell in front of him, he wouldn't do anything but to stare and see what happens next. It was as if the children were some kind of experiment and he was the person observing and taking results. In other words, he was useless.

If Zephyr was missing, all the kids Ari terrorised would never be the same again. Zephyr was their beam of support - he stood up against Ari and even got beat up for that, but he always didn't mind. At least, that was what it seemed like.

What if he had gotten sick of defending the helpless? What if he didn't want to get beat up and protect them? What if he had left?

Nudge shook her head, throwing those thoughts out of her mind. She wasn't thinking straight. Nobody had ever left the orphanage ever since Max did. Ever since Mr. Batchelder came in. Ever since Nick changed and wouldn't talk to them anymore.. Ever since Jeff turned bitter and scoffed anyone who tried to talk to him.. Ever since Ari had full reign of the orphanage and could do what he wanted to.. And ever since Zephyr became the big brother they never had..

Nudge was shocked at the number of things that had happened since Max left. _Because_ Max left.

"What are you thinking about?" Angel asked quietly, looking at Nudge with concern. "He's gone," she replied, addressing the look of alarm that Nudge had shot her for talking. Nudge sighed audibly.

"I'm just thinking.. about how much things have changed since Max left." Angel looked at Nudge intently as she reminisced, staring at something that wasn't there. "I've only met her once, a long, long time ago, but.." Nudge paused. "She was nice."

"She doesn't seems so nice for leaving you here," Angel uttered. Nudge gave her a long, searching look.

"Yeah, well, ever since she left, everything tore apart."_ How is it that someone, a normal person like her, can affect the rest of our lives?_

"I wished she had stayed. It would be great for you to meet her."

"Says the person who has only met her once," retorted Angel quietly. Nudge shot her a questioning look.

"What's wrong, honey?" she asked. Angel wasn't usually like that.. she was usually a sweet girl, despite all the hardships she faced as a six-year-old orphan in a dump like this orphanage.

"Nothing." Angel leaned back against the back of the closet. "I just think that if she left, she should've brought you with her." Nudge smiled at what Angel said. That little girl was too sweet for her own good. But, did Max really have the choice of bringing someone along with her? If she could have..

"No.. she should have brought Nick."

"Nick?" Angel crossed her eyebrows and cocked her head. Nudge could guess what the girl was thinking; probably something in the lines of '_That brick wall who mopes around all day and doesn't talk?_'

"Yeah, Nick." Nudge sighed and closed her eyes. "He wasn't like before, you know. He was really really nice and fun and talked a lot.. until Max left. No matter what we tried, all anyone could wheedle out of him were one-word answers and that was the day he became what he is now."

Angel was silent for a few seconds, and Nudge had a bad feeling about her lack of speech.

"I hate Max."

Nudge sighed, and wondered if she had done something wrong. She had just added one more person with hatred lodged in her heart to the world.

* * *

"Judy, grab your keys. Let's go."

The decision was on the spot - I just snapped once I heard the guys talk about me. Going back to the orphanage would be way better than talking to _them_ about _that_. I wanted to scream. Sheesh, what was I to them - some kind of toy that they were fighting over? Bloody hell, guys just think they _own_ the freaking world.

"Huh?" Judy's voice brought me out of my momentary mental rant, and she looked confused. She was by the door, and had apparently been conversing with Gazzy before I returned. Before I had a chance to reply, I was interrupted by a suddenly changed eight-year-old.

"Y-you mean, you're going back?" Gazzy looked at me, his eyes full of hope. Then, it got clouded over by a similar look of confusion to Judy's. "But.. huh?"

"Look, do you want me to go or not?" I snapped impatiently.

"Of course!" Gazzy cut in immediately, a smile lighting up his face. "Come on! Mrs. Judy was about to give me a ride!" He happily grabbed my hand, and started pulling me down and out of the door.

Judy stood at the door, staring into the air with a dazed expression on her face, before asking me about the other occupants of the house. It was sad, really - I had been hoping that she would forget about them. Then they'd realise that they were alone in the house and, you know, get a shock or something. Well, too bad that wasn't going to work.

"Leave the door unlocked. Tell them to scram. Whatever. I don't care," I said and threw my head high up into the air and sniffed dismally. I was becoming such a drama queen.

"Really," Judy shook her head, "go up and tell them that we're leaving, Max."

I bit back a retort and wrenched my hand from Gazzy's grasp, not bothering to apologise. Whatever. I didn't want to even _look_ at those three idiots. I rolled my eyes and was about to make a show by storming up the stairs, but was saved the trouble when the three said people appeared beside Judy. For what reason, I did not know, neither did I want to know.

"You were going to leave without us," Nathan accused. He crossed his arms and looked at me with a stern look. No, let me rephrase that: what he _thought_ was a stern look. He just looked constipated.

"Way to go, Mr. Obvious," Terry whispered loudly. "Now she knows that we've been watching h - "

My face darkened considerably. I think it must have been quite obvious, because Terrence began backing away.

"Whoa there, chill, girl," he uttered, his uneasiness becoming more evident with each word. Nathan made the mistake of letting a chuckle escape his mouth.

I turned around and rounded on him. He started backing off immediately.

"Max, can we don't play games right now? I really want you to meet everyone again," Gazzy's small voice interrupted. I halted and turned towards the little boy, who had a pleading look in his eye. My throat constricted at the thought of going back.

What was I thinking? I couldn't make it. I didn't have the courage to look those people whom I've left behind in the eye.

But I had just agreed to go back with Gazzy.. And he's just a small kid.. Too small with too much disappointment in his life. I wasn't going to add on to that.

"Alright, alright," I said grudgingly, and was pleasantly surprised when Gazzy smiled again, skipped over and grabbed my hand in his smaller one and pulled me to Judy's car in the garage.

I was not that pleased when I realised that the Three Musketeers had self-invited themselves to follow us.

I was rather annoyed that Judy had allowed them to do so.

I was angry when Terry started singing Old Mac Donald five minutes into the drive.

I was really angry when everyone joined in, including Gazzy.

But what really pissed me off was when the boys started Fart Bombing in the freaking _car_. And Judy was actually laughing despite that.

I hung my head out the window, trying to gulp in as much fresh air as I could. It looked like Gazzy had been doing some serious practice. Either that, or he had something really nasty for breakfast.

At least I got to say, "I told you so."

* * *

The sudden change in that young boy was so apparent, it amazed Judy.

When she had first seen him, she was so shocked, and rather sad, about the maturity that his face betrayed. Eight-year-olds were supposed to enjoy life, have fun and be happy-go-lucky, but young Zephyr looked and acted more than thrice his age. Not that he looked old, oh no he didn't. But the way he carried himself, the way he looked at and addressed people, the way he spoke!

He had grown up all too soon.. He had grown up when he wasn't supposed to.

And from his tired and mature demeanour, Judy pitied him. She felt for him, and wondered what had gone so wrong it made him like that. She had felt the compulsion to hug that little young boy who was so much more of a man than many others who were so much older.

But then it had all disappeared when he heard Max agreeing to visit the orphanage with his very own ears.

Everything changed. His brilliantly blue eyes lit up and his small, almost-practiced smile was lost in the midst of a full-blown grin. His face crinkled as he started jabbering away about how glad everyone would be to see Max after so long, and the clear sound of his laughter and chatter made him seem like an eight-year-old again. A _happy_ eight-year-old.

The change in him was so shocking and drastic, and it made Judy happy. It made her happy for the fact that he was still capable of being someone his age, no matter what troubles had pursued him.

_Choices,_ Judy thought, as she slowed the car down and stopped before a red light. Her eyes flickered to the rear view mirror as she saw the boys laughing merrily and a hint of a smile on Max's lips as Gazzy instructed them on how to fart properly. It was an interesting skill, that boy had.

Zephyr really seemed like the eight-year-old he was supposed to be right now. He was laughing, smiling and jesting with everyone, and had even come up with several (rather bad, she had to admit) jokes. But it was the effort that counted, after all. He could have just kept quiet and keep to himself but he didn't.

_Choices_.

Max's choice to return to the orphanage had changed Zephyr so much. Then again, maybe it had been her choice to leave to have a life with Dr. Phil and Judy herself that made that little boy like that in the first place. But it had been Zephyr's choice to return here to look for Max, and if that had never happened, Max would have never dared to make the choice to return to the orphanage.

Every choice is important, for one can be affected so much by just one simple choice. The power of making a decision.. It was so powerful, and yet people threw that power around by making improper choices, maybe for selfish reasons, maybe because they didn't dare to do something.

And that was, really, all that mattered after all. The choice one makes determines their personality, character and direction of life.

And she was grateful towards the little boy who had made her realise that.

* * *

_Coming soon: Max takes several steps into that place that has been haunting her dreams for the past four years.. and encounters several familiar faces with personalities so different from what she could remember.._


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for the wonderful reviews and feedback, everyone. It's really really appreciated. Hahaha. Who reads Michael Connelly? I'm now a huge fan, he writes really well. :D

I should really stop getting ahead of myself with the "Coming Soon" part. \: It's like, I have an idea for what's next, but then, when I start writing, another idea just comes to me and I let it bring me to another place..

Yes, writing means a lot to me. I don't lead the characters, they lead me. I don't control the story. I let the characters do what they want to, and then I write about it. I don't set the situation, the character brings me to it.

And that is how I perceive writing.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

I was running.

_Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud._

The fast, rhythmical sound of my footsteps echoed loudly in the strangely familiar narrow hallway lined with photographs of different people. There were several items or so placed against the wall; I vaguely remembered passing an umbrella stand, a small table and such. I was running for the door.. the door that seemed to be farther away with every step I took closer to it.

My lungs were aching, and my feet felt numb. But I kept running.

_Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud._

"Max!" I quickened my pace at the sound of the frenzied shout behind me. I recognised that voice. That was his voice. _His_ voice.

I started to break out into cold sweat as I gave it all I got and sprinted. I was gasping for air and my legs were so, so, tired. But no matter how fast I ran, that door seemed to be getting farther and farther away from me.

I didn't stop.

I couldn't stop. I didn't have the will to.

"Max!" he yelled again, with a hint of desperation in his voice. From that one word, I could also tell that he was out of breath, just like me. But why was he chasing me? What was I to him that he would chase me in this never ending hallway? Was this just a game to him? Then, why did he shout like that? Was it because the game was over and he was trying to tell me that it was dinner time?

Speculation. All speculation. I didn't have a clue on why I was running.

_Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud._

So I didn't stop. I ran and ran and ran.

There had to be a pretty good reason why I was running away from him in the first place, right?

So what was it? Why was I running?

I didn't know. All I knew that I wanted was to put as much distance as I could from him.

"Max, please.." I heard the plea in his voice, and violently shoved it out of my mind. He was playing with my head.. He was trying to make me stop.. I musn't stop running. I _couldn't_. I didn't dare to.

Because I didn't know what he was going to do if I stopped and allowed him to catch up with me.

I threw a backward glance and instantly regretted it. I gulped and began to have doubts about continuing eluding him.

Fang was dressed handsomely in a black tuxedo. His black hair was in a mess, and he was drenched in sweat. It was the same Fang, ten-year-old Fang.

My mind started whirring. I looked down at myself and realised that I was in a plain white dress. But I wasn't ten. I was me, fourteen-year-old Max. And what the heck was I doing in a dress?

Suddenly, everything went dark. _Bam_. It was as if someone had switched off the dim lights of the hallway. It was so sudden, I halted in my tracks for fear of colliding into some unknown object.

Then, silence. Deafening silence.

The darkness was like blanket around me, but it was suffocating. It made me fear for what was around me. It made me long for the company of someone in the strange, unknown darkness.

"F-Fang?" I called out, and my small voice rang and echoed loudly in the hallway.

Silence. There was no reply.

I gasped when I felt chilly wind move around me. The bottom of my dress flapped with the wind. Was that possible? I wasn't in the hallway anymore? Then where was I?

I hesitated.

"Fang.." I whispered.

The only response I got was the sudden picking up of the wind and the sound of rustling leaves. I heard a pack of wolves howl in the distance, and I felt goosebumps on my arms. The sound was eerie and hair-raising.

"Fang, where are you?" I rasped, my voice smaller than ever. I slowly dropped to my knees on the ground. It was ice cold and rock hard.

"Fang." Why did you leave me alone? Where are you? I thought you were behind me..

"Fang." I'm sorry I ran from you.. Can you please, come back now?

"Fang." My voice got softer and that word was choked out as I began to feel tears sting my eyes.

Nobody. Nothing.

I was all alone.

All alone, lost in the world.

"Fang.."

* * *

"Who's Fang?"

The question went unanswered as Zephyr continued looking at his 'mother', who had fallen asleep approximately an hour ago. Her head was rested against Terry's shoulder, and he was looking mighty darned pleased about it.

She had stirred restlessly and mumbled incoherently in her sleep, and Judy had told them that it was not a matter of worry - she just probably had a bad dream. Once, Max had started turning around, moaning and muttering in a tone that sent everyone the car worrying. Everyone had eyes on her, and it was apparent that they were anxious. However, it had been agreed that Max needed her sleep no matter how bad a dream she had; she could handle it, after all. She was the invincible Maximum Ride.

Only Zephyr remained calm and composed throughout, looking and observing. His eyes never left her and it was starting to give Nathan the creeps. Tim, making an accurate guess on Nathan's thoughts, scowled at him and shook his head. Zephyr was just _eight_, for goodness's sake. He couldn't be that ..twisted.. to think about Max in _that_ way.

Zephyr had learned a few tricks from Mr. B. Watching and waiting, he had learned, was sometimes the best possible option when there was nothing else that could be done. Nobody had wanted to wake Max up and face the wrath of her downright pissed side. So, Zephyr just observed and inferred.

Ten minutes after her restless stirring, she stopped and muttered a word so clearly they thought she had woken up.

"Fang."

Zephyr's heart stopped.

Max moved and snuggled up beside Terry, her head on his shoulders. He shot a smirk towards his two other friends, who gave no response.

"Fang." This time, the word was soft and mumbled, but clear enough. Zephyr was amazed.

She was dreaming about Nick.

And then, the wheels of his mind began to turn. Why had she been thrashing around, then? Why was she in such a state of unrest? He corrected his mental statement.

Max was having a bad dream with Nick in it.

That was, generally, not good. But the fact that she had been dreaming of him anyway made Zephyr's heart lift, for it meant that she hadn't - couldn't have - forgotten about the orphanage in those four years she had been missing.

"F-f-f-fang, don't.. don't leave.. me.."

Zephyr saw Judy's worried glance in the rearview mirror. He wondered if she knew about Nick.

"Who's Fang?" Terry asked. Zephyr detected the hint of jealousy in his voice. He also noted that the question was directed to him, but he ignored it and continued looking at Max.

"Man, how'd we know?" Nathan replied. He sounded put off.

"Do you know, Judy?" Tim asked her, and she shook her head, her eyes still on the road as she drove.

"I've heard her say that names a few times, but she never really talked about it. I didn't want to be a busybody." Judy's eyes flickered over to Tim, and his cheeks turned red when he understood what she was implying. Yes, Zephyr concluded, Judy could be a sharp woman at times.

"Where.. Fang.. Don't.." Max stirred, and her hands flopped on Terry, such that she was half-hugging him. Zephyr couldn't help but to feel a stab of disgust as he took in the expression on Terry's face. He decided that he would keep an eye on Terrence for the time being.

Zephyr looked out the window. They were close, and were almost reaching the orphanage. It had a name, but no one had bothered to learn it. The wooden sign that indicated the name of the orphanage was old, worn and rotted, such that only the letters "o,r,a,n,g,e" from "orphanage" were left. It was kind of stupid, actually. Nobody had bothered to replace the sign.

"Sorry.. Fang.."

Zephyr noticed Nathan furrowing his eyebrows, probably pondering over this mysterious Fang person. Zephyr almost snorted.

"We're almost there," Judy informed everyone. "Let Max rest until we're there." Everyone nodded silently, not wanting to get on Judy's bad side. The car turned and slowed down as Judy maneuvered her way to find a space to park her car.

"Fang.. Don't.. Please.. I.. love y-"

"WE'RE HERE!" Terry shouted, and bounced up on his seat, causing Max to jolt and hit her head on the top of the car.

"AWESOME!" Nathan shouted in an equally loud, booming voice. Tim just chuckled. Zephyr knew what was going on. They didn't want to hear Max saying 'I love you' to someone else. In fact, he had a vague idea about them and their feelings towards Max had formed in his head, and usually, his ideas were right.

"What the - " Max scowled, putting her hand on her head over the part which had hit the top of the car, when Judy interrupted.

"I do not," she emphasised firmly, "appreciate you doing that." Her gaze was steely as it ran over Nathan and Terry, who gulped. Zephyr realised that they had gotten a lot. Not that the car park was full anyway, it was always empty except for Jeb's car, and in today's case, Judy's.

Zephyr noticed that Max had not said a word since she set eyes outside the car. He decided to take the lead, while Judy was telling Terry, Nathan and Tim to behave themselves in the orphanage. He opened the door and pulled Max out by her hand, leaving the rest in the car.

"Come on, we're here."

While they surveyed the front of the orphanage and waited for everyone else to get out of the car, Zephyr wondered why his voice sounded dismal, and he hoped that Max hadn't picked up on it.

* * *

"There's people out there!"

That initial shout of excitement caused more noise and the message passed on as the children flocked to the windows excitedly, shoving at each other to get a good view of the people. Those who were right in front pressed their faces against the windows, trying to guess what the business of those people were.

Even some of the older children looked mildly interested. They leaned by the window, pretending not to be but they didn't fool anyone. However, the younger children were too excited to really care.

They had not had a visitor in four years.

* * *

We were here.

Those three recurring words rang loudly in my head, as if I was standing right under a large bell. We were here. I was here. I was just a few steps away from place that has been haunting my dreams for the past four years.

Dreams.

My palms started to turn clammy as I ran through the latest dream in my head again. It had started the same way – I was running from Fang. Running away.. from my past. Running, no matter how hard it was. I pushed myself and ensured that I continued running. And the thing was that I did not know why. Only once I would look back, and then, in the usual dreams, that had been it.

I was just running, and Fang was just chasing me.

But this.. _this_ dream with it's desolate and frightening ending made me shiver. It was as if it was depicting my future.. All alone, in the cold world, because I couldn't make myself accept the past.

Was that it?

Did I have some power to predict the future or something?

I let out a shaky breath and chuckled uneasily to myself. The wings were one thing, but _powers_? Too far-fetched, indeed.

"Why are you laughing?" A serious Gazzy turned to look at me in the eye. I recollected myself and reminded myself where I was. This was certainly more important than ..mere dreams.

After struggling for a response, I just shrugged half-heartedly and threw a look at the car for Judy and the guys, who seemed to be taking a whole lot of time, to make their way here. Judy seemed more reserved than usual with the Three Musketeers, but Tim, Terry and Nathan were as merry as ever.

Somewhere, deep down inside, I knew that mine not opposing them in coming along would turn around and bite me in the butt.

I pushed that dismal thought aside, as I became aware of the many faces pressed against windows with excited expressions. The people ranged from all ages – in fact, I thought I recognized a few. From their gestures, I gathered that they were all talking animatedly about us.

Why, though? Wasn't it common for other people to visit orphanages to, I don't know, adopt children or something?

"Uh, Gazzy, why are there so many people looking at us?" I asked uncertainly, as Judy locked the car and started making her way next to me.

"They're excited," he replied simply, and smiled somewhat sadly at me. _Whaaat?_

"Why would they be excited?" I asked. He placed my larger hand in his proportionately smaller one and pulled me along to the front door, causing me to stumble in my first few steps. The wind suddenly picked up and leaves started dancing around, making it a rather dismal yet beautiful sight.

I coughed to myself and wondered what the hell was wrong with me today.

Gazzy pulled to a stop right outside the main door. I could hear noise coming from inside, and it reminded me of my first meal in the orphanage. My stomach churned.

"Remembering?" Gazzy said quietly.

"Yes," I rasped, my voice suddenly hoarse.

"Hey, Max, so this was your old home?" Nathan banged me on my back, making me jump, and let out a long whistle.

"The orange. Nice." Terry guffawed.

"Look guys, can we just drop this? Can't you see that this is difficult for Max?" Tim adjusted his spectacles, looking at them long and hard. "There must be a reason she hasn't visited this place in the last four years after all. She would've told us if she came."

I glanced over at Tim appreciatively, and he smiled encouragingly at me. I noticed Judy giving him a nod of approval from the corner of my eye before she stepped forward and rapped on the door.

The sound was loud and booming; I could hear it echo loudly in the hallway hid behind that door. I broke out into cold sweat – I couldn't do this. I couldn't. I just couldn't do this at all. What if Fang opened the door? How could I face him?

Just as the door ominously creaked open, I shot Gazzy a quick apologetic look and wrenched my hand from his, turned on my heels, and fled towards the nearest thicket of trees I could set my eyes on.

I ignored the sounds of surprise from the people around me. I ignored Judy's apology to the person who had opened the door. I threw all those out of my mind as I ran, like in my dream.

What I couldn't forget about was Gazzy's expression. He hadn't seemed surprised at all. In fact, he looked as if he had expected it.

Why is it that an eight-year-old can be so much more mature than someone who is six years older than him?

Why am I so afraid of confronting Fang and the orphanage?

WHY?????

I slowed down as I neared some trees. I was glad that no one had followed me – I needed a flight. All I needed was a flight. I would calm myself down.

I know that flying would help me calm down and sort my nerves out. I knew that flying would allow me to arrange my thoughts and think properly. I knew that flying would be the solution.

I came to a stop in what seemed like the middle of the trees. Leaves were in the air, and the trees were swaying with the breeze.

I know it would feel good if I could flap those wings in the sky and let the wind caress the feathers.

I don't know how I knew, I just _knew_.

I looked up at the blue sky dotted with clouds of all shapes and sizes. Overhanging branches blocked some of it out, but it was because of those branches that I got the idea. I pushed all my thoughts aside for the moment and braced myself.

I started climbing the tree.

I didn't know how to fly.

I was going to make myself learn how to.


	11. Chapter 11

I have said this for countless number of times, but thank you so, so much for the reviews, story alerts and favourites. They mean a lot to me – it's great to know that there are people actually reading this story. I had several long reviews which made me happy, and I hope this chapter will be unexpected for you.

As for this chapter: Hate it, love it, just tell me. Lose some, gain some, I won't know. But I hope that, especially at the end, you felt what I felt while writing - my heart was beating so, so quickly, I could imagine the whole thing happening. But I don't know how effective my transfer of thoughts to words is. Either way..

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

Nick landed gracefully behind a few trees by the mini-playground and tucked his wings comfortably behind his back. He shook his head, trying to fix his hair from its wind-blown look. It was in an utter state of mess, and he did not want people to wonder about what he had been doing.

Ah, the sweet glory of flight. It made him forget his worries; it made him feel _free_. Free, not like in the orphanage with Jebs and Aris and things that reminded him of Max.

Nick's face darkened – he shouldn't have let his thoughts stray that far. He tucked those firmly into the back of his mind and made himself remember what the flight with the hawks had been like. He put his hand into his pocket, looked down at the floor and strode out of the trees, pondering over how to do a particular maneuver that those said birds had been so good at.

In fact, Nick had been so deep in thought he did not realize that he had walked past someone until someone called out to him.

"Hey!"

He jolted out of his thoughts and immediately turned around to face the source of the voice. He was astonished to see someone jogging towards him from the direction of the sandbox. Someone he hadn't seen before, in fact.

He was so surprised, he let his guard down.

"Who are you?" he addressed the bespectacled person suspiciously. He had dark brown hair and was rather tanned. He was dressed simply in dark jeans and a shirt, and his somehow squarish face seemed friendly.

Nick started to be wary again. Friendly people were not good.

"Hey, the name's Tim." The boy thrust his hand out and Nick stared at it. Tim held it out awkwardly for a few seconds and finally let it drop back to his side when he realized that Nick was not going shake it. He shifted his body weight from one feet to another.

"What are you doing here?" Nick stared at him, his jaws hard. What was this? Some trick that Batchelder was playing?

"I came with my friends…?" A look of confusion spread across Tim's face.

"For?" Nick demanded. Tim's confused expression cleared and he did not shy away from Nick's stare, but instead, looked defiantly back at him.

"Look, what's it to you?" Tim crossed his arms. "I just came here to say hi, because you're someone who's actually not screaming at the sight of visitors like the others back there - " He jerked his head towards the orphanage. "And then you demand information from me. What the hell, dude."

Nick gritted his jaws for a moment, and Tim just stared back at him angrily, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. The wind picked up again, causing the leaves to rustle and the swings to creak.

Yes, it would be stupid to continue arguing and demanding information from this fellow. Nick decided that the best way to find out what in the world he was doing in the orphanage was to pretend to befriend him and casually ask about it.

Then again, he could just return to the orphanage and just ask anyone. But they would probably die of shock from him talking anyway, so he decided to stick to his original idea.

"Nick," he said gruffly, and nodded at Tim, who had already held out his hand once more. Nick grasped it lightly and let go. They both slowly made their way towards the orphanage.

"Aww man, can we not go back there?" Tim moaned, and a pained expression crossed his face. "There were _hoards_ of them. They all just came screaming down and all, and Mr. Batchelder had to threaten them to keep them back."

Nick's ears pricked and he mentally noted that down.

"What did he say?" Nick asked warily. It was uncommon for Batchelder to threaten. In fact, all he usually did was nothing.

"Something about some Ari thing," Tim uttered, furrowing his eyebrows. Nick's heart skipped a beat, and he felt a chill run down his spine. Before he could say anything else though, Tim answered his unasked question. "They all backed down after that, and didn't make so much noise. They still stayed around to look though. Terry's enjoying the attention a whole lot, especially from the girls." Tim snorted.

Nick wondered if he should be worried, but he decided that Batchelder wouldn't try anything in front of visitors. He nodded, and changed his course towards another copse of trees located at the other side of the orphanage. The trees around the orphanage attracted him, somehow. They were old, silent and tall, and sometimes Nick would wonder what they would be thinking about if they could think. It fascinated him.

Tim nodded appreciatively and followed Nick. They slowly strolled, and enjoyed the breeze and the sight of leaves falling.

"So, what were you doing out here? Everyone else was back inside," Tim shot Nick a sideway glance. Nick stiffened at the personal question, and he quickly racked his brains for an answer.

"Enjoying nature," Nick responded. That was partly true, after all. Tim nodded appreciatively.

"Yeah, I get you man. It's so peaceful out here too."

Oh, he had no idea.

"So, how many of you are there?" Nick asked casually, trying not to look too interested. Tim frowned a little as he did a mental count.

"Six, if you count Zephyr," he replied. Nick halted in his tracks.

"Zephyr?" He looked baffled.

"Yeah." Tim nodded. "You probably don't know him." Tim doubted that someone like Nick would bother himself with little children like Zephyr.

Nick, however, took it as it was another Zephyr that didn't belong to the orphanage. He still held some suspicion, though. After all, why would Tim say 'if you count Zephyr'? He pushed that aside and went on to more pressing questions.

"So, why did you come here?" he questioned. Tim, to Nick's relief, did not seem suspicious or surprised about the number of questions he was being asked.

"Accompanied a friend," he said vaguely. _Very helpful…_ "Why do you ask?"

Nick looked at him seriously and they stopped under a tree near the thicket.

"Nobody ever enters or leaves the orphanage," he said. Tim looked at him curiously before starting to laugh.

"Right," he snorted. Nick felt disgruntled that this person thought he was kidding, but he did not push it.

They both lapsed into silence again, Nick entertaining thoughts and possibilities of the visitors' appearance, and Tim just enjoying the nature and wondering about Nick.

Suddenly, a disturbance broke both boys from their trains of thoughts. Nick was faster to comprehend – it was the sound of something tumbling down and falling by the trees and hitting branches on the way. And it seemed heavy and large.

Tim looked around his surroundings curiously. Nick picked up a distinct groan, which he was sure Tim had not heard.

It was the sound of a human being.

Was it possible that someone had fallen down from a tree?

There was a chance. Nick quickly moved towards the source of the disturbance – North-West, if he was not wrong. He left Tim at the back, shouting for him and asking where he was headed to but Nick ignored him.

The trees were thick in this area, but there was a clearing about a metre in front of him. Nick headed towards it, his heart sinking with every running step he took.

He ran out and his eyes met a horrendous sight. He was so stunned he stared in shock, his jaws hanging wide open.

_Max_ was scrawled on the floor, bloodied and moaning in pain.

Several of Max's bones looked twisted and unnaturally out of shape.

Two wings were sprouting out of Max's back.

She looked as if she was going to die.

"Hey, Nick! What's going – " Tim ran out from behind and paused when he saw Nick stock-still, staring at something on the ground which was blocked from his sight. He began to feel deadly dread spread slowly through his body, and he slowly and cautiously edged around Nick.

"Holy f---ing _shit_," Tim said out loud, and fainted.

* * *

Nudge was worried. Dreadfully worried. Many hours had passed and Zephyr was still nowhere to be found. She thought that she had seen him with those visitors, but she couldn't be sure. Either way, there was no chance – what would he be doing with visitors, especially since they hadn't had any ever since Mr. Batchelder came?

Angel was beside her, holding her hand. They both were back in Nudge's room, and were lying under her bed. It was past the danger time, but you could never be too sure. Who knew when Ari would change his mind?

Nudge stared at the frame of her bed above her. She always felt safe there. The bed was by the wall and behind a closet, so there was only one part exposed. There, she would always hang her blanket to cover it so that she and Angel would be totally concealed from whoever went into the room. She would make the blanket look as if it hadn't been placed like that in purpose, and she would always leave a little space at the bottom for air.

Every single day, Angel and she would hide there. The place was stocked – there was a candle and matches, Angel's blanket and a book or two. The girls would light the candle with a match and place it right at the end of the bed away from their heads, but they preferred the darkness.

They would sometimes just lie down and talk, and Nudge would occasionally read to Angel by the light of the candle. They did that all lying down, of course. They never felt that the place was too stuffy; it was their haven. They felt safe from Ari there.

Sometimes, Zephyr would join them, but not often. He found it uncomfortable.

"Who are they, Nudge?" Angel asked. They had quietly crept up to the room after getting a glimpse of those mysterious visitors. Many other children were still hanging around, even after Mr. Batchelder threatened to let Ari loose. The both of them had immediately taken cover after that threat.

"I don't know," Nudge replied. "It's weird though. I mean, no one _ever_ comes or goes." They lapsed into silence as Nudge began to think again.

"Are you thinking about Max now?" Angel asked again, and turned her head to face Nudge. Nudge met her eyes and smiled sadly.

"You're doing it again, you know," she chuckled half-heartedly.

"Sorry," Angel apologised quickly.

"It's okay."

The light flickered momentarily, and Nudge looked at the frame above her again. She began to mindlessly trace the shadows, and Angel kept quiet, knowing that Nudge was going to talk soon.

"You know, Max was the last person to leave the orphanage," she said, once again looking at something that wasn't there. Her hand paused in mid-air at a spot on the wooden frame and she closed her eyes, remembering the old times. The better times.

Angel made a non-committal sound, and Nudge shook her head.

"I don't blame her for leaving, though," Nudge said, almost to herself.

"Why? She left you here. She left Nick, and everyone else. I hate her," Angel retorted, and clenched her fist. Nudge sighed.

"Have you ever heard of Ms. Walker?" Nudge started explaining. She opened her eyes and looked over at Angel, who had a sort of constipated look on her face. She nodded.

"She was the manager before Mr. Batchelder, right?"

"Uhuh," Nudge confirmed. "Well, I didn't really see it for myself, but there were rumours." Nudge paused, as if adding on to the suspense.

"Rumours about what?" Angel asked, seemingly interested. "Was she a vampire or something?"

"Silly girl, I've been reading too many fantasy books to you," Nudge laughed, before turning serious again. "Well, there were rumours that she got drunk and threw a bottle at Max."

Angel scrunched her nose up.

"She threw a water bottle at Max?" she scoffed. "Big deal. She hasn't gone through what _we _have. We have so much more reason to leave than her."

"Indeed you do," a loud, horrifyingly familiar voice boomed, and the blanket flew away. In a split second, both girls realised what was happening and a rough hand clawed hand grabbed Nudge by the ankle and started pulling her out. Angel screamed and moved back against the wall, pulling Nudge's arm. Nudge started screaming, and Ari laughed.

Nudge thrashed around, trying to get Ari to loosen her grip on her. Angel hung on to her hand as tightly as she could, but it was to no avail. Nudge was slowly being pulled out, and Angel along with her.

Then, Angel felt hot, white searing pain on her leg and she let out a piercing, blood-curdling scream.

Nudge's eyes widened as she suddenly began to realise that the temperature in the room was steadily going up. Ari's grip on her suddenly loosened and her ankle dropped onto the floor with a loud thud. Angel was thrashing around and screaming bloody murder, her eyes screwed shut.

In her thrashing, Angel had knocked the candle over onto her leg and onto the floor.

The old, wooden floor with the wooden bed frame above it.

The bed and the floor beneath it was on fire, and it was spreading unnaturally quickly.

Angel's legs were still under the bed.

Nudge screamed and started tugging Angel out, but the frame had collapsed all in the matter of seconds and Angel was literally burning. The fire was spreading - up the curtains, the flooring around them. Nudge shrieked shrilly and started pulling with all her might. Angel was trying to kick her legs, but they were stuck under the frame. She spasmed and was screaming in pure agony.

Somewhere, at the back of her mind, Nudge registered Ari running out of the room. Not to get help, she was sure. She knew he didn't want to get caught bullying red-handed, even if someone's life was at stake.

"MAKE IT STOP!!!!" Angel shrieked hysterically, and tears started pouring uncontrollably out of Nudge's eyes. She looked around for something, water, anything, to try to stop the fire - but there was nothing available. The toilet was right at the end of the hallway, which was very, very far.

Nudge did the only thing that she could think of. Angel's legs were on fire - Angel did not deserve it. She was so young, and innocent. Ari deserved it. That sick bastard did.

Nudge braced herself and plunged her hands into the fire. She bit back a scream, her eyes started watering, but she did not let go. She started hauling the part of the bed frame that had fallen on Angel up.

"Angel, get out!!" Nudge shouted, almost in hysterics, but there was no response. Her hands were searing in pain. Agony. Pain. _Kill me.. Kill me now.._

She then realised that Angel had stopped screaming. In fact, she had stopped screaming while Nudge was in the middle of pulling the frame up. _No, you can't be dead. No, don't die. Angel. Angel, don't die._

And then, her vision blurred. The pain in her hands subdued ever so slightly, and Nudge dropped the frame. She stumbled around and dropped onto the burning floor. Somehow, she heard frantic voices around her, and two shaky arms whipped her above the ground and carried her out of the room, running. Nudge was confused - had Ari gone to get help, or was she just hallucinating? Her vision suddenly got more blurred and Nudge just gave up. Her hands were on fire. She didn't want the pain anymore, and she embraced the welcoming arms of darkness.

_Angel... don't.. die._


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry. Yeah I know y'all hate me. I'd really like to explain myself, but hey. Just excuses, right? Hahaha. Anyway, I'm really sorry for not updating for like, what, a month?! Hopefully you have not forgotten..

(Because of this, please don't review after a month for revenge. Hahaha.)

By the way, I'm sorry if this chapter turns out a little confusing. Read it and understand it. The ending is meant for you to ponder about. :D As for the middle, I wanted to try that 'method' out. Kinda worked out well for that certain segment, to me. I would certainly love to hear your thoughts on it! (Maybe you should scroll back up and read this after you're done reading the whole chapter.)

I wonder if I'll receive negative feedback. Oh well. I'll wait and see. :D

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

Nick panicked.

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as his gaze flickered from Max, to Tim, back to Max, and to Tim again. His palms began to feel clammy and his mind was in a whirl. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

He was so freaking overwhelmed he didn't know what to do.

Emotion! No! Why was he feeling emotion?

How was it that just looking at Max made him feel so much again?

He knew he should tend to Max first, for the sight of her was really horrifyingly scary. Tim could wait - he had only passed out, uninjured, and there was nothing really dangerous among the trees.

What to do, what to do, what to do.

Nick started pacing around subconsciously, and the irrational wind picked up again, sweeping leaves off the ground.

Nick couldn't bring himself to take action.

He plopped down on the floor and leaned against a tree behind him, closing his eyes and placing a hand at his temple.

The sight of Max had robbed him of all coherent thoughts. That couldn't do. He had to sort out his thoughts.

Firstly, why was she _here_ at the orphanage? That was the question that bothered him the most – even the wings didn't bother him as much. She hadn't come once in four years, so why the sudden visit? Then, Max must have been one of the "visitors" with Tim.

And then the wings were a close second. Nick was rather stunned – he wasn't the only one with wings. He felt a strange sense of happiness swell up in his chest; they were both the _same_. They were equal. He wouldn't be the only freak in the world. That could bring them closer. Yes, it could indeed. He would convince her. But, if she had those wings, how could she have fallen?

Nick stood up and took several tentative steps forward to examine her wings. He winced when he saw her face; unconscious as she was, her face was screwed up in pain. Nick saw a faint pulse at the side of her neck, and he calmed down a little. _Just look at the wings. Wings only._

Nick peeled his eyes off Max's face and turned towards the wings. The feathers were dull and looked rather squashed, and Nick immediately understood. She had ended up falling because she had jumped from the tree in an attempt to fly.

Why now, though? Why, of all times and places possible, _now_, when she was visiting the orphanage?

But it was obvious it wasn't an attempt at suicide – the wings were out after all.

Silly girl.

Wait – what was he doing?!

Max was critically injured, and here he was, _thinking_ and pondering about stuff? There was a better chance that his questions would be answered if Max was freaking alive!

_What the hell, Nick! Get a hold on yourself!_

He quickly got up and went over to Max, passing Tim on the way. Nick noticed that Tim had fallen on his back when he fainted. His spectacles were askew and his hair a mess. Several leaves had settled on him due to the wind.

Nick frowned, as the face suddenly seemed strikingly familiar to him.

He bent down and adjusted the spectacles. Then, he removed them, stared at the face, and dropped the pair of spectacles in shock. Nick's memory came back to him.

_"Right," snorted another guy. His hair was dark brown and he had a squarish face that held a light tan. "Like that time she said she knew this person who could beat your stink-bomb fart record." All the guys roared in laughter, and the girl look merely amused._

Him. Them.

_That guy_.

He had been one of those three _bastards_.

Nick face suddenly blackened considerably, and a shadow fell over his face. Gritting his teeth in anger, he clenched his fist so tightly the tendons showed. If one of them was here, there was a high chance that all of them were.

A plan began to formulate in his mind, and as he walked forward to carry the broken Max, he smiled sinisterly.

Max could wait. Nick had seen her rather faint pulse - she had passed out, which meant that she wouldn't suffer and feel the pain. She wasn't going to die. The blood flow had stopped. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

Nick slowly stooped down and placed Max gently on the leaf-scattered ground beneath another tree nearby. He closed his eyes and kissed her bloodied forehead, keeping his lips there for a few seconds or so.

He then got up and calmly walked over to Tim's body. He roughly got him off the ground and placed his arms between Tim's armpits. He then spread out his wings and leaped into the sky, Tim dangling from his arms. Nick flapped his wings hard and fast, running all the secluded places he knew from his numerous flights through his mind.

All three of those guys were going to _pay_.

Especially that bastard who hugged her.

* * *

Angel?

Angel, where are you? Oh, there you are.

Why are you standing there? Haven't I told you that it's not safe to stand near the trees? You don't know what's hiding in there.

Angel, please come here.

Come on. Don't look at me like that. It's not safe. Come here!

Ang- Why can't I move?

Angel! Get here now! I think there's something behind you!

ANGEL! I said get here! I can't move and I don't know why! Get away from the trees!

ANGEL!!!! OH MY GOD ANGEL, IT'S ARI! RUN! DON'T LOOK BACK! RUN, ANGEL!

A- Angel?

Why.. What are you trying to do?!

Why are you going back with Ari?

He will torture you!

ANGEL!!

Angel.. No..

He'll _kill_ you..

Angel.. You don't know what Ari's capable of.

No. No. No. Please don't hold his hand.

Don't walk into the woods, Angel. Don't walk with Ari. He's bad. BAD!

Angel..

Angel, don't go.

Angel. No. You don't get it. Don't go. He'll kill you. You have no idea. _I_ have no idea.

Please, Angel.

I don't want you to die.

Angel.. I can't see you anymore. Why.

Why did you go with Ari?? Hasn't he done enough to us already?

What did he do.. Did he offer her sweets?

Of course that sick bastard must have done something.

Angel, you have to survive. No matter what he does to you.

We are survivors.

But I cannot survive without you.

Angel, don't die.

Please don't die.

I don't know what I'll do without you.

* * *

Terry was afraid.

Frightened. Terribly frightened. Dreadfully afraid. Whatever. They were all the same. Just different words describing the same thing.

The whole orphanage was on fire. Everything was burning. The heat was overwhelming, chaos reigned and the adults and older children were trying to do what they could while the fire engine made it's way here. Most of the younger children were being herded into a safe area in the care of what seemed to be one of the older children from the orphanage. She was taking charge; doing a head count, asking if everyone was alright.

Mr. Batchelder, on the other hand, was more of something to worry about. The rest of the older children were trying to get whatever source of water they could to put out the fire, but all he did was to stand there, observing and taking notes down onto a clipboard.

Despite all that, chaos reigned.

There were many children screaming, and majority were crying. Some could not be moved - they were rooted to the ground, and those who were helping had trouble moving them to a safer place where the smoke would not hurt them. The blazing fire sent acrid plumes of smoke billowing into the the air, and the fire engine was fifteen minutes away.

Worst of all was the condition of the little blonde-haired girl that they had saved from under the burning bedframe. Judy was tending to her, her back hunched protectively over that girl as she worked and did the best that she could do whilst waiting anxiously for an ambulance.

There was so much to worry about, and so much help that was needed.

But all Terry could concentrate on was that little Mocha-Girl, mumbling while she lay on her side. _"Angel.. Don't die."_

He didn't know why. He had no idea at all. She was all he could concentrate on. He didn't want to take in the chaos; he didn't want to traumatize himself. Yes, Terry was easily traumatized. That was why he acted like a huge egomaniac full of pompousness and ego.

As that girl mumbled another string of incoherent words, images started to flash in front of Terry's eyes.

Fire. Blazing heat.

Water. Buckets full of water, trying to put the fire out.

The scream.

The _burn_.

No. No. He must not think of that.

Concentrate on the girl. That's it. Concentrate on the girl.

Concentrate on the girl. There wasn't any need to remember the past.

_"Shh, Terry, shh. Everything will be all right.."_

That whisper echoed hauntingly in his head.

"Yes, Momma," Terry rasped, and the word escaped into the air. It was lost in the heat and the noise, and in a way, Terry was glad for that, for no one could hear him at his weakest moment.

_"Who's a good boy now. Who's a goooood boy."_

"I am, Momma." Terry closed his eyes and bent over. He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged his legs, before he started to rock back and forth. "I'm the goodest boy in the whole wide world."

_"Shh, Terry, shh. Everything will be all right.."_


	13. Chapter 13

Okay, for those who didn't get it, the middle part was actually Nudge. It's like, she's talking to herself in her head and from what she's saying, you've gotta imagine what's happening. At least, that's what I was trying to do.. If it turned out okay or not, well, it's up to you to decide. Hahaha. StephanieZorander hit the nail on the head :)

Anyway, thank you so, so much for reading and/or reviewing. It feels great to know that there are people who will read my work. Every writer loves that, don't we?

I have a confession to make. I'm starting to lose the enthusiasm to write. As you can see. I haven't written in a month. Whoops.

Yup, read, like it or not, review, and I hope that this chapter has made you evoke some pity towards Ari.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

Jeff paced back and forth in agitation.

His feet made no noise as he padded across the grass-carpeted ground. He was under the shade of a tree, quite a distance from the blazing orphanage and far enough not to hear the crackling of the fire and the screams and cries of the little children. The air was somewhat cool and in the distance, he could hear the hoot of an owl.

He was angry, annoyed, and dreadfully worried. The orphanage was on fire; he couldn't care less. He didn't give a damn about that place. But the fact that it burned down meant that meant that he wouldn't have the chance to carry his plan out!

Where was Max? Where was that girl? Was she hiding somewhere in the woods, waiting for the correct moment to return and to strike anger and pain into his heart?

The plan was not working. In a way, he was glad, for he wouldn't commit such a horrendous deed, but now, he would have to find some other way to repay Jeb. At least that task would have been easy. Now Jeb would probably come up with some other harder task that he would have to do. Jeff just wanted to get it over and done with. He wanted to sever his ties with that company Jeb was working with before they did anything ..else, or got caught.

Keeping the record clean, someone had called it. He had to wipe his slate clean before he could proceed further in life. After all, no one trusted someone who had a dirty record.

He had his options. He could make a dash for it - in all the confusion and chaos, no one would really notice that the blind kid was gone until some time later. No one ever noticed the blind kid. He was just some hermit who lurked around the orphanage, sapping pity from every other kid in the orphanage because of his disability.

No one ever noticed the blind kid.

Of course not.

Jeff wheeled around and punched the trunk of the tree with an amazingly brute amount of strength. It was amazing that the tree had not been uprooted; the sound it made as his fist came into contact with the bark was enough to scare off several night creatures lurking around in the dark.

Jeff breathed heavily. _In and out. In and out. Calm down._ He let his hand fall limp on his side and gave no attention to his bleeding knuckles. With his eyes closed, he leaned back against the trunk of the punched tree and slid down such that he was now sitting.

He had to sort his thoughts out. After four whole years of his mind in a state of confusion and bitterness, it was time he sort his thoughts out.

Why. The huge three-lettered word. Why was it that he felt so bitter that no one took notice of him? Wasn't it what he wanted? Wasn't it the reason he distanced himself from everyone in the orphanage - his best pal Nick, Tammy, Sam, the lot?

He still remembered the day Jeb delivered him the news. Max's words had burned. He had been so confused - why would someone who seemed so nice in her way say something like that to hurt him? He had been so angry, and frustrated and upset. But he didn't show it. He had locked himself into his room, and just thought. He had tried, and failed, to sort his thoughts.

This time he was determined to succeed.

So, why?

What supreme power did Max have over him to make him feel so upset over her words? Why was it that what she said would affect him so much? What was it that made him care what she said? Why couldn't he just ignore it and continue living life as per normal? It wasn't his loss, after all... Right?

"Thinking, are we, _Iggy_?"

Jeff was jolted out of his thoughts by the somewhat familiar rasp. It rang a bell somewhere in his head – why was it so familiar?

Jeff got up to his feet warily, and slipped into a fighting stance. He became unnaturally still as he waited for the person to make a move – any move. Jeff would hear him. What he had lost in sight his hearing made up for.

"What are you waiting for?" the voice taunted. "Come on. Catch me if you can."

Jeff hissed. This unknown voice was provoking him. Jeff didn't like to be provoked. First, by calling him by his past name which he had left behind with the departure of Max and now, with every trace of mockery in the voice, it was asking him to catch him without any conviction that he could.

Jeff would show him otherwise.

_You asked for it._

"It must suck to be blind. Not able to see what those other kids are laughing about... Not being able to appreciate a work of art... Not being able to read or write... How _pitiful_," the voice spat. Jeff clenched his fist, and tried to ignore the taunts. It would be rash to lash out in anger without knowing the coordinates of the unknown person. But once Jeff figured out where he was...

A twig cracked. Eight o' clock.

"Gotcha," Jeff whispered. He abruptly turned around and sent a fist flying towards that direction. It was caught by a much larger, rougher palm, which in turn clenched tightly, with Jeff's fist in it. He gasped. He was strong – and that was a fact that he acknowledged but never boasted about – and never had he met someone stronger than him and who could match.

It hurt.

Jeff wrenched his hand out of the grasp of the unknown enemy, and he – or it, whatever it was – laughed. The bark-like laugh was one of mockery, and then, Jeff remembered.

_"Ari_."

He hissed.

"A little slow today, are we? I'm disappointed. I thought you would have figured out before this. Or were you too absorbed, wallowing in _self-pity_?" Ari's voice was full of contempt and provocation, and Jeff bit his tongue, trying not to lash out back at him. He had to be cautious and wary. Ari was going around him in circles, like a predator closing on its prey.

How could he have forgotten? How could he have forgotten that voice, that laugh, until the very last minute? The feared bully of the orphanage. The son of Batchelder. He practically _ruled_ the school.

And Jeff had been too absorbed with his own thoughts to even notice what was going around him in the orphanage.

"Too late for regrets, Iggy," Ari hissed, and Jeff took a step back.

His only consolation was that he had something that Ari did not know of.

His wings.

But before he took flight, he had to know. Why now, of all times? Jeff hadn't had any trouble with Ari. He didn't even know that that wolf-like character knew of his existence in the orphanage.

"Why?"

Ari laughed again. _Gee, you seem to be pretty happy today, huh._ Ari stopped pacing, and Jeff turned to face him.

"Because." His tone was grim and serious, a drastic change from his previous mockery.

"Because? Is that supposed to be valid?" Jeff could not help it – the words just came out by themselves.

There was a long pause.

"Yes," Ari finally whispered, and he lunged at Jeff.

In that split second, Jeff unfurled his wings and leaped into the air.

_Flap… Flap…_

Yes! He would fly away. Away from Ari. Away from the bloody orphanage, and Batchelder. Away. He would escape his world, full of worries, questions without answers, and regret. He would run away.

It was a cowardly thing to do, running away. But Jeff was not afraid of being a coward.

Then, Jeff realised something very wrong.

He wasn't moving upwards.

_WHAT?!_

Jeff flapped his wings as hard as he could, and he realised that he remained stationary in mid air. Had he lost his gift of flight? But he still had the wings, and they were flapping! He was in mid-air, but why was he still stuck there, even though he was straining as hard as he could to fly upwards?

Then, he realised.

Ari's hand was locked around Jeff's ankle, and from the sound of things, Ari wasn't having a hard time keeping Jeff there. In fact, Jeff could actually feel Ari shaking with silent laughter.

_Flap! Flap, damn it!_

"Let me go!" Jeff hollered. "Let – " he jerked the leg that Ari was holding, "– me –" he jerked it once again, "– go! –" Jeff shouted, and screamed, and with all the fury and rage locked up in him, he gave one last kick and managed to get Ari to loosen his grasp on Jeff's ankle.

He seized that moment and flew up into the night time sky in triumph, with tears of frustration and anger running down his cheeks.

In the not-so-far-off distance, he heard the anguished howl of a lone wolf.

* * *

"Why?" that blasted Iggy asked, and that simple question got Ari thinking.

_Why? Why was I doing all this?_

"Because."

Because Jeff was lucky to have actually had a family that cared, and Ari was envious. Batchelder didn't care about him at all. All he cared about was his precious little experiments. Ari was nothing, _nothing_ at all to him. Just another experiment gone awry. He wasn't even treated like a son. So Ari tried his very best to do whatever Batchelder set him to do, because he wanted his father to treat him like a son, not to look at him like an experiment.

"Because? Is that supposed to be valid?" Jeff's voice was filled with incredulity, and Ari felt like strangling him. He didn't know how lucky he was to have had a family that loved. Even though they had been taken away, they had still loved him once. Ari would have traded that for his own father any day.

Did Batchelder actually think that he wanted to bully the little kids? No, he didn't. All he cared about was to watch how the children reacted to his bullying.

And then, bullying became something to let out his anger. The children became something to vent his frustration and anger on. He did to those children what he wished he could do to his father in anger. He lashed out, he let it all out. All his anger, frustration, feelings of self-loath.

So why was he doing this?

Because he wanted to be a son his father could be proud of and acknowledge. He wanted to be the son his father could bring to work and proudly announce to the whole world that he had brought his child along.

Because, there must have been a reason why Jeb Batchelder didn't treat him as a son after all.

And Ari had it figured out. It was because Ari wasn't good enough.

So he had to be that perfect son. He would do anything, _anything_, to gain the love that he would soon deserve from his father.

He was prepared to do evil deeds trying. He was prepared to _die_ trying.

"Yes," Ari whispered, and lunged at Jeff. As he rose into the air with a single flap from his wings, Ari managed to get hold of his left ankle.

That kid could very well be the key, the _magic key_, that would unlock his father's undying love for him. He would never know until he tried. And he knew that his father had it in him to love. To care. It was just that he was too busy and preoccupied with his work.

And Ari cried, as he held Jeff's leg. He cried, because life was unfair.

"Let – "

He cried, because he just wanted that love that he deserved, and he was doing heinous deeds to gain it.

"– me –"

He cried because he was such a selfish bastard.

"– go!"

And as that kid flew off, Ari collapsed into a teary mess on the ground.

He howled.

How he wished he had never been born.

He would never have needed to experience the harsh cruelty that reality came with.


	14. Chapter 14

Thanks for the reviews. It made my day to know that there are still people who will bother to review even if I took so long to update. :D

This chapter may seem a bit weird and out of place, and you may have tons of questions, but later on, along with the many questions that have cropped up, they will all be answered. Patience, my friends. I hope you will find this chapter okay despite it being a little weird. -yawn- Whoa, it's 12:45 AM.. I'm dead beat.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

_Hickory dickory dock,_

_Terry stared at the clock,_

_He's waiting to die,_

_As the minutes pass by,_

_Hickory dickory dock._

Terry had been named after a mouse.

He had been named after his mother's late pet mouse. It had died exactly a year before on the exact date when he was born, and it had been the creature that was the dearest to the heart of his mother. Maybe that was why she named him after her pet mouse. Terry the Human was going to be the creature that was the dearest to the heart of his mother, just like Terry the Mouse.

He didn't know much about Terry the Mouse. Just the basic facts, like how much his mother loved it. She would tell Terry tales about his namesake; how they got into trouble together, how much fun they had had together, how she would talk to it and it would nod and squeak as if it understood. In fact, Terry had once wondered if his mother would have married the mouse if she could.

Terry rocked back and forth on the ground in front of the Mocha-Girl, remembering. It was no use trying to suppress the memories and thoughts. His attempts had been to no avail. The flickering light from the fire, now waging a war against their arch enemy, the fire fighters, cast dancing shadows around him and Mocha-Girl stirred, mumbling to herself. The scene was so vividly similar, and without helping it, Terry remembered.

He forgot, but now he remembered again.

_Hickory dickory dock..._

That nursery rhyme that came along with the burning flames haunted his memory. Fire. Burn. Death. Mice. Death. Screams._ Death_. All those had happened.. Eight years ago.

Tragedy struck, eight years ago.

When Terry had been the tender age of six.

His precarious childhood life had been built so carefully, so _lovingly_, but it had all gone. His life had been demolished; everything his mother had done for him. Everything she had been working for. Gone. All because of one man.

Roland ter Borcht.

* * *

Susan Silver was a graceful lady who believed in influence and stature. She was, in a sense, superficial. Looks were important, money was important, but having honest fun was just as important to her.

Much regarded as a crackpot in the past due to her rather abnormal interaction with rodents, she had moved to another posh city, where she raised her child in a large, modest two-storey bungalow. No one really dared to ask "the nutty neighbour who just moved in" why she spent so much money on a two-storey bungalow for two people: a single mother and her child.

Different men could be found in her house almost every night of the week, and the neighbours would engage in speculative gossip about what the infamous Ms Silver was doing with the men. Terry was used to hearing rumours of his mother being a whore, and he had learned to disregard those, for he knew it was not true.

His mother was a psychologist, and she was writing a book on men. Every night, she brought a different man back home for dinner, like a "first date". She would analyze their reactions and their talk, how far they got, and such. Things never got as far as a kiss.

So everything had been fine and mundane, until a particular night Susan Silver brought back a foreign man with an accent that Terry had once found much pleasure in laughing at.

"Honey, this is Roland," his mother had introduced, and the man stuck his hand out. She was dressed in her usual jeans and shirt, and the man had a formal suit on. Terry sized him up. He didn't look very nice, but there had to be a reason why his mother brought him back, after all. Maybe she needed to research on the 'rougher men' on the streets.

"Hi." Terry kept his hands behind his back, refusing to shake. Susan shook her head slowly, and led him away.

"Don't worry, he's always like that," Terry heard her tell him, a note of sadness hidden under her voice. She understood that he would rather her play with him than with the guys.

"It eez okay," the man had replied. Terry bit back a laugh. _"It eez okay"?_ He decided that that night was going to be one night to remember. Tonight was going to be different. There was a vibe in the air. Terry could feel it, no matter how young he was.

He dashed up to his room and grabbed a tape recorder, before running back down. He settled himself snugly outside the kitchen; out of sight, but in hearing range - perfect. He switched the tape recorder on.

Let the fun begin.

"So, Roland, what do you think of the house?" his mother started the conversation. Background noises of clinking plates and glasses could be heard as she prepared the table.

"It eez nice. Nice an big. It could catch fire, you know."

Susan laughed at his words.

"As if I'll ever let that happen," she scoffed.

"Yes, you seem responsible. I doubt dat vill happen."

His words were followed by a silence which was filled by the sound of metal on glass; they were eating. Terry was holding back now - he knew he was going to laugh uncontrollably later on when he listened to the recording of Mr. Roland's voice again and again. But this was not the time to do so.

Terry had been about to fall asleep when the sound of a chair being dragged back startled him and woke him up.

"Roland? What are you doing?"

"I need the toilet." His voice was tinged with annoyance, and Terry was sure that his mother caught that.

"Oh. Do you need me to show you?" Susan asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Nah. A man needs his space. Vill you tell me the directions?" Terry laughed. _Vill. _Classic, even to a six-year-old.

"Just go to the hallway and go straight. It's right at the end." After giving him the directions, Susan went back to her food. Terry could hear the clinking sound again.

"Thank you."

Terry only realised that Roland was going his way when he heard the footsteps becoming louder. He stooped down, stopped the tape and quickly slid it into his pocket.

Was there time to hide or run away?

Terry figured that Roland was four steps away from his hiding place, so he decided to stay and pretend he was playing.

He grabbed his Terry bear, and started playing with it, pretending that it was flying an aeroplane. Just in the nick of time, too, because at that moment, Roland walked past Terry, looked to the left, and saw him. His eyes narrowed.

"Hello, Terry."

The voice was suddenly big and malicious, and it did not seem funny to him anymore. Suddenly, he wished that he had been playing with his trains upstairs in his room.

Roland turned around and made his way towards the young boy. Terry looked at him, his eyes wide. He suddenly felt afraid and intimidated. What did this man want from him? Wasn't he headed for the toilet?

Terry pushed himself back until he was pressed against the wall. There was no where to go.

Each step brought Roland nearer to him.

"I - I thought you wanted the toilet?" Terry blurted out. That did not stop the man walking towards him. A grim smile played at his lips.

"Eavesdropping, were we?" Roland taunted. Terry's heartbeat quickened considerably. Then, Roland squatted down such that his face was right in front of Terry's. Terry gave a start, shocked.

"What do you want from me?" Terry asked, frightened. His grip on his Terry bear tightened. "Who _are _you?"

"I am Roland ter Borcht, Terry. Remember dat name."

Terry stared at the frighteningly large form of the man. He seemed to be rummaging in his pockets for something.. Something that he soon realised was a syringe.

Terry eyed it with caution, suddenly apprehensive.

"What are you doing?" He winced at how small his voice had become, which made him seem more vulnerable. Where was that stupid little boy who wanted to record the funny way a man talks? At least he had confidence.. Now? With this intimidating Roland ter Borcht in front of him instead of around the corner, Terry figured that it had been a bad, bad idea, trying to record the man on tape. The man cocked his head and looked at him, as if carefully choosing his words to reply the little boy.

"I am.. doing an experiment." His brows knitted as he scrutinized the face of the young boy he was holding by the shoulders. "You must _not_ tell anybody about dis, understand?"

"Not even Momma?" Terry asked, his eyes wide. The man hesitated for a split second.

"No. Not even your Momma."

Why shouldn't he? What would happen if he did? However, by the way Roland's eyes were glinting evilly, Terry gulped as he considered.

"I vill hurt your mother if you do so," Roland threatened. Terry eyes widened. This man would hurt his Momma if he told her what he was going to do to him?

"Don't touch my Momma," he muttered.

"Good. Tell no one about this."

Terry gave a quick nod in reply. His breath quickened considerably and he eyed the syringe as the man moved it closer to him. The cool, sharp point of the needle touched his skin, and Terry breathed in sharply.

"Dun vorry, this is going to hurt," the man said, unconcealed pleasure in his voice.

Terry whimpered.

* * *

It all flashed in front of his eyes in rapid-speed.

The feeling of pain numb his body. The sound of his mother screaming when she found Roland hunched over him like a pervert. The argument that his mother had gotten into with Roland. The sound of breaking glass. The sound of his mother screaming. Roland's laugh. That evil, maniacal laugh. Then.. the heat.. the flames.. Roland dragging his mother away, while he sat there crying, like a baby. And when he called for her, looked for her, he could not find her.

He sat, hunched, under a tree in his backyard. The whole house was ablaze.

Tears trickled down his eyes, like a flowing river that did not seem to stop. His vision was blurred, and it was as if he was swaying. He squeezed the paw of the scrawny, worn, now charred, Terry bear.

Fire blazed around him like a monster, waiting to eat him up. Roland was nowhere in sight, and neither was his mother. Where was she? What had that man done to her? What had that man done to _him_? What was that thing he had injected him with?

Terry's sobbing only got harder as he saw the neighbours, trying to help put the fire out by splashing buckets of water into the monster. The sound of his mother screaming repeated itself over and over again in his head. Then, it was gone.

"Shh, Terry, shh. Everything will be all right.."

_...Momma?... _Was he hallucinating now? Six-year-old Terry sniffed, and looked around. He turned left, right, left, right, frantically searching. Searching for his mother amidst all the people. Amidst all the chaos.

"Yes, Momma," he whispered. _Momma, where are you? I'm scared._

"Who's a good boy now. Who's a goooood boy." The familiar silvery voice, now faint, made its way across to his ears. Terry heard it. He perked his head up and looked. Tightening his grip on the bear, Terry stood up unsteadily.

"Momma, where are you?" he asked with a quavering voice, and his question was left lingering in mid-air.

"Follow my voice, dear, and you can join me. We'll have so much fun together. Terry Mousy's with me too, you know. You'll get to meet him."

"Yes, Momma. Of course, Momma." Terry sniffed and wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand which was not clutching onto his beloved Terry bear.

"Shh, Terry, shh. Everything will be all right.."

Nobody noticed the lone little boy clad in purple and white striped pyjamas slowly walking away in the direction of the city railway station.

* * *

Eight years ago in Roland ter Borcht's laboratary, on the rainy night a young boy clutching a toy bear was found sitting cross-legged in the middle of the train tracks, the scientists cheered.

It worked. What they had been working on for the past two years had worked. Success, at last! Even if it meant the demise of others, it was still success. They had succeeded and that was all that mattered.

"Roland, you're a genius," his colleague grinned, and high-fived his fellow colleague. His face was shining brightly, and never had anyone in that very laboratory been so elated in their entire lives.

"I know, I know, you don't haf to tell me," ter Borcht smiled toothily.

"Excellent. Now, after two whole years of waiting, we can proceed, thanks to your wonderful breakthrough."

Jeb Batchelder smiled.

* * *

Roland ter Borcht.

Terry never forgot that name.


	15. Chapter 15

Hai! Nineteen days since I last updated. :L

Thanks for reading, even if you didn't review. Thanks for the reviews too. The whole point of the previous chapter was to show you that somehow, everything is connected. Like how Terry is actually connected to an experiment led by Jeb and ter Borcht's team of scientists, and they in turn are connected to Max and her wings, et cetera. Also, what I had hoped for you to think about in the process of reading was;

a) What the hell did ter Borcht do to Terry?  
b) Why isn't Terry in a orphanage?  
c) Why doesn't Max know?  
d) What the hell does this have to do with the story?

Well, if you succeeded in thinking any, or all, of those, congratulations, you get a virtual cookie! :) Actually, the main point of the previous chapter was to show yall that everything is connected, in a sense. And I'm sorry, I'm not going to explain anything yet.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any characters associated with the story.

* * *

The rhythmic thud of spade into soil echoed around the deserted area.

It was eerily quiet besides that, and the resounding thuds were loud and echoed. The only living things in sight were clumps of half-withered trees struggling to survive, several insects lurking about, and two boys.

One of the said two was digging intently, making dent after dent on the earth. He would thrust the shovel into the soil, heave the soil out with obvious effort, and dump it onto his left. The hole he had dug up so far was remarkably large, but he kept on digging relentlessly. A pile of dug-up soil lay not very far off to his left, and to his right lay an unconscious teen his age.

_Thud.. Thud.. Thud.._

Nick paused for a moment and wiped the sweat off his face using the sleeve of his shirt. He hadn't even been an hour into digging and here he was, sweating like a pig that had just completed a ten kilometre marathon.

He wasn't thinking. The only thing in mind was to complete the goal he had set while flying several hours ago: Make those three bastards pay for touching his Max. Since Tim was already available, he would be done with him first. Nick would pick them off one by one; first Tim, then his friend, and finally, the asshole who hugged Max.

Saving the best for last, that was.

Nick figured he had knocked Tim out pretty hard after he woke up while Nick was still flying. He still had not come to, even after those long hours of flight. He wondered if it would be better off if Tim was already dead because of the hit. If he were already dead, all Nick had to do was to dump the body into the hole he had created. He wouldn't have to handle knocking him out once again.

Nick was still undecided on what to do with his unconscious companion. He had his options. He could:

a) Just dump Tim into the grave and bury him alive, leaving him to a slow and painful by suffocation.

b) Kill him and bury him.

c) Fly back to the orphanage and pretend he hadn't considered killing someone just because of some girl.

Of course, option (c) was definitely out. For one, he was pretty sure he was already out of the country, having flown tirelessly for about two hours tops, with an unbearably heavy load on his arms. He was intent on making it back with a lighter load to carry. And Max wasn't just "some girl". She was Max. MAX. _Max_. Not _some girl_. She was _MAX_.

Now it was a question of whatever remaining morals he had left. Inevitably, Tim would die, and at his hands. He asked for it, anyway. It was either he died quickly and painlessly, or he died a slow and painful death.

Nick paused as he considered the hole in front of him. He deemed it deep enough. As he stepped out and placed the spade down, he considered his options and Tim's fate.

What had Tim done to deserve a painful death? Not that much. All he had done was to be close to Max.

At that thought, Nick clenched his fist into a ball. Yes, he had gotten close to Max. But he hadn't _touched_ her like Blondie did. Yes, that was it. Blondie deserved the painful death. His two friends would still die, but they would get the painless death.

Tim was already unconscious, anyway. What difference would it make to him when he died?

Nothing at all.

That was the most merciful sentence Nick could give Tim. He seemed to be a nice guy, anyway, from what little conversation he had held with him.

Nick smiled dryly as he looked back at what he thought. _"The most merciful sentence."_ Who was he to judge someone for their actions and sentence them to death?

He set his jaw.

He was Nick. He was _Fang_. He would kill anyone who had touched Max like that, even if it was a mere hug. The intentions were clear. They had wanted more than a hug. Nick would kill them for that, before they brought more harm to the world.

But that was just deforming the actual reality and twisting it into what he wanted. He was thinking of his actions as good. He was depicting himself as a saint, who did the world good, instead of seeing himself as he actually was: a selfish, pig of a birdkid.

Nick let out a bitter bark of laughter.

Enough thinking. He would kill Tim and bury him before his conscience, though long dead, started to act on him.

* * *

Nudge was confused.

It was dark. Pitch-black kind of dark. She couldn't see her own hands, let alone a single step in front of her. She heard the sound of children crying and whimpering in the distance, accompanied by soothing reassurances made by other people. She heard the sound of water. She heard a disturbing sizzling noise. She smelled ..singed material.

Where was she?

"Momma.. Momma don't leave me," a low, frightened voice whimpered somewhere to her left. Nudge felt her surprise and confusion rising. What in the world was going on?

Then, along with the surprise, came the pain.

It was a dull, throbbing pain that haunted both her hands. They felt partially numb, but when she tried to wiggle her fingers, the pain increased tenfold. She hissed.

As she became more aware of her surroundings, she started to come to several conclusions about her current situation. Firstly, her hands were injured, but the pain had somehow been dulled by some sort of medicine. Secondly, there were many, many children all around her. Everything seemed to be somewhat under control. And thirdly, she guessed that there had been a fire nearby.

Fire?

Fire.

FIRE.

ANGEL.

Nudge bolted upright, her eyes flying open, and her senses heightened suddenly. Adrenaline pumped in her veins as memories rushed back into her mind, like water through a broken dam. Ari.. Angel.. Fire.. Angel!

She had to find Angel!

Discarding all thoughts about her injured hands and the weird, moaning figure next to her, Nudge managed to rise to her feet without using her hands and she made a beeline towards a group of people huddled under a tree not far off. As she half-stumbled there in her haste, she managed to take note of her surroundings.

She halted in her tracks, shocked. Even Angel could wait now after seeing this destruction; Nudge needed to process what she was seeing.

The orphanage was in ruins. All that was left of it were black, charred walls and furniture, fallen in at several places. Walls made of wood had either fallen in or been completely burned away, and the whole second and third floors were gone; they had fallen in to the ground. The once welcoming, homely building was now reduced to a broken mess of charcoal.

Nudge blinked.

No. This was not happening. She felt her heart skip a beat; she felt the world slow to a stop; and she felt a lump forming in her throat.

Her home. This was her _home_, and had been one for the past years of her childhood. She had been at the orphanage since.. forever. Sure, being bullied by Ari and all wasn't very pleasant (the understatement of the century, that was), but everything she had grown to love had been at the orphanage. She didn't know a life outside the orphanage. She didn't _have_ a life outside the orphanage.

And now it was gone.

Where were all the children going to go to now? Would they build a new orphanage? Will Mr. Batchelder get into trouble? Would they separate the children? If they did, would she ever get to see Angel ever again?

Angel.

At that name, an image of her sweet, innocent face floated into her mind. She had to find Angel. Before any more bad things happen. And, at this rate, Nudge wouldn't be surprised if the world suddenly exploded and she was blasted into outer space, dying instantly due to the lack of oxygen. Things have already been so bad, if anything got worse, she wouldn't be surprised at all.

Nudge snapped back from her thoughts and hurried to the group of huddled children, realising that they were the other kids from the orphanage. The older children were comforting the younger ones, and as she scanned the crowd, she could make out several adults talking to each other in low voices. Three out of the four were clad in firemen clothing.

Then - there! Under another tree, not very far off from the large group, were two adults bending over a small figure. Nudge felt her heart lurch - that definitely had to be Angel!

She half-ran to the tree, ignoring concerned looks from several older children as she passed that group.

However, she felt her heart sink as she neared the trio.

That wasn't Angel they were over - it was some other kid. Someone from Ari's gang, she realised. Omega? The two people over him were Brigid and Gozen. Nudge felt disgusted at herself. How could she mistake Brigid and Gozen for adults? They were more childish than the youngest children in the orphanage. But she was digressing - she had to find Angel!

If Angel wasn't there, she _had_ to be with the larger group. She had to be somewhere..

Nudge blinked away the tears that were starting to form in her eyes. What if Angel had died and they brought her body away to be buried or used as evidence for arson or something? What if Angel was amongst the burned remains of the orphanage? What if -

"Whoa there, little girl," a soothing voice murmured from above. Nudge blinked away the tears and looked up. She had been to absorbed in her what-ifs and had walked into a fireman. His face was lined with concern, and Nudge felt another wave of tears coming. He bent down and placed two hands on her shoulders, looking at her in the eye. "What's wrong, honey?"

"A-Angel," she choked out. "I - I don't know where sh - she is."

He frowned, as if trying to recall something.

"Angel, you say," he muttered. Then his face brightened, but it was suddenly replaced with a look of dismay. "An ambulance just left just a few minutes ago. A little girl, a woman and a young man went along in it. She had nice blonde hair just like my daughter, I remember thinking. I think the girl was seriously injured.." His voice faltered.

"Angel," Nudge said, a feeling of numbness clouding her senses. Angel had been sent off to the hospital. That revelation was both relieving, yet alarming at the same time. If she was sent to the hospital, she would be in good hands. The doctors would treat her. But to need professional doctors to treat her mean that she had been seriously injured.. Burned..

The nice fireman looked at her thoughtfully.

"I'm done here," he said, gesturing at the charred mess that was once the orphanage. "There ain't nothing else I can do here. You seem pretty concerned bout that Angel kid. She your sister?"

Nudge couldn't manage a reply for she burst into tears. Angel wasn't her sister biologically, but she was the closest to family she had ever had. She was more like a little sister than anything else to her. And she was fatally injured.

"There, there," he said, patting Nudge's shoulder, looking rather uncomfortable. "Here, I'll bring you to your sister, how 'bout that?"

Nudge managed to hold back a sob and looked at the man, trying to convey in that one look that she would be utterly grateful to him for the rest of her life, before the waterworks continued flowing. She figured he got the message, for he grabbed her hand, causing her to flinch and wince, and lead her towards three firetrucks at the road outside the gate of what was left of the orphanage.

"Yo Rodney!" he hollered towards the direction of the group of talking adults. "I'll be heading back first, yeah? You managing fine?"

One of the figures raised his hands and gave a short nod.

"Bring the oldest back," Nudge heard a faint voice over the whimpering. "I think everyone else is still staying." The Nice Fireman shouted back an affirmative reply and gently tugged Nudge towards the last out of the three trucks. He opened the door and gestured for her to enter, and she did so without hesitation.

_Angel_, she thought, taking in a shuddering breath. _I'm coming. Wait for me. If you're going to die, don't die yet. I'm coming._

It didn't really occur to her that it was odd nobody was taking any action against her leaving the place. They didn't know where she was going, after all. For all they knew, this could be a kidnapping in progress.

But she didn't care.

She was going to Angel, and that was all that mattered.

Dead or alive, she was going to Angel.


	16. Chapter 16

Thanks for sticking with me so far! Oh and yes, if you were wondering, yes, Fang's current state of mind is currently a little bit crazed. Reviews would of course be loved, and a Happy New Year to all of you! 2009 has been awesome, and here's to an awesomer 2010. :)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any characters associated with the story.

* * *

Zephyr and Nathan couldn't find Max anywhere. They had searched amongst the crowd of children camped under the trees, questioned the firemen on whether they had sighted her, and had even gone to the extent of asking Mr. Batchelder whether he knew where she was. All he did was to blink at them and scribble something on his clipboard - it was infuriatingly infuriating.

"Where could she have gone to?" Nathan said, as the two trudged towards another group of children to ask about Max.

"I don't know. What would you do if you were her?" Zephyr posted the question. Nathan paused and turned towards him in surprise.

"Why're you asking me?" he asked, brows furrowed. "Well, if I were her.. I don't have a clue! Damn it!" He stomped his foot on the ground in frustration, and Zephyr couldn't help but to think that he was acting like a little kid.

Zephyr raised an eyebrow. They were getting closer to a group of three people under a tree - two hunched over a small figure, lying on the ground.

"I asked you because you have known her for the past four years of her life," Zephyr stated. Unsaid implications were glaringly obvious towards Nathan, and he scowled.

"Look, from all those years, one of the things I've learned about Max is that she does the unpredictable," he retorted in defence. "You expect her to do something, she does something else you totally didn't expect. You ask her to hop, she runs. You ask her to swim, she flies. You ask her to run, she dives."

"I see." Zephyr didn't see, in actual fact, but he had said that to placate his companion who was getting more agitated by the second. By stating what she would do if he asked her to do something, he was already expecting her to do it, wasn't he?

Zephyr shook his head. This was so confusing. Too confusing.

They neared the group of three under the tree, and Zephyr was dismayed to find that they were the remains of Ari's gang. Omega lay unconscious under the tree, and Brigid appeared to be tending to several minor burns on his arms. Gozen merely watched. Zephyr put his guard on as Nathan stepped up to speak.

"Hello," Nathan started. Gozen turned to survey him, a grim look plastered on his face, and Brigid merely nodded her head towards his direction to acknowledge that she heard him. "I'm here to ask whether you've seen this girl called Max. She's about my height - shorter by a little, and she has dirty blonde hair. She was wearing jeans and - "

"No," Gozen said in his usual monotonous voice.

"I'm sorry, what?" A look of surprise had crossed Nathan's face - clearly, he was not used to this kind of treatment.

"Kid, he said no. Meaning we haven't seen her. And even if we had, we wouldn't give a damn. How would we remember if she wore jeans or not? Who takes note of those kind of details?" Brigid stared at Nathan, a hardened expression on her face. Zephyr stood silently behind Nathan, and it was as if the trio hadn't seen him at all. "Look, if you don't mind, I have a friend to treat to here."

And with that, she huffed, flicked her half blonde, half red hair, and returned to treating Omega's burns.

The pair turned around and walked away.

"Well, that was weird," Nathan commented. Zephyr lead both of them towards the direction of a desolate clump of trees not very much a ways from the orphanage camp.

"They were nicer than usual," Zephyr said. Nathan shot him an incredulous look.

"Nicer than usual?" His voice said it all - he was appalled at Zephyr's statement.

"Yeah," Zephyr nodded. "They're part of Ari's gang. The bullies." Nathan did not see his fist clench into a hard ball in the gloom. Nathan cleared his throat, clearly not at ease.

"Right. So, what do we know so far?" he started. "We know that nobody has seen her - of course, since she took off in the direction of some trees in the distance, and she hasn't come back yet."

"And that's it," Zephyr concluded. Nathan threw his arms up in resignation.

"Well, this sucks." That was the understatement of the century.

"I think we should head for the trees she ran towards," Zephyr suggested. "And that's where we're going right now, actually." Nathan's eyebrows rose, probably impressed at the fact that he hadn't considered that idea.

As they entered the dark copse of trees, Nathan couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. After all the chaos, he hadn't realised that quite some time had passed. It was already night, and only a sliver of the moon could be seen, the rest of it hidden by the clouds. It was ominous, and it unnecessarily added to the tension and darkness of the night's occurrences.

But he was digressing. Their current aim was to find Max. Judy had told them to, and in some places, Judy's words might as well be law.

In the little moonlight that lit the place, eerie shadows were formed. It was unnervingly scary, and Nathan was grateful for his little companion on his right. Despite his young age, Zephyr was by far more mature than Nathan himself. He could do with some lessons from the little man.

They walked in silence, Zephyr lost in his thoughts, and Nathan looking out for any night creatures that could be of any danger to them.

That was when they walked into a small clearing.

And Zephyr's jaw dropped when he saw the sight that lay before his eyes.

He couldn't believe it - it wasn't happening. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. It was just a bad dream and he would wake up sooner or later. But as a strangled noise escaped Nathan's mouth and Zephyr started to feel goosebumps and the chills, he couldn't suppress the sinking feeling that this was all too real.

A shiver fingered its way down his back as he stepped forward tentatively. A girl, caked in blood, was lying under a tree, right beside a mess on the ground which suggested that she had dropped from the tree, and injured herself badly. Her breathing was shallow, and her figure looked oddly out of shape. Something about her struck Zephyr as familiar.

"Max!" he gasped as a dreadful feeling of recognision overcame him, and he rushed towards her side, Nathan not far behind.

He stepped over fallen leaves as he frantically made his way towards Max. He gave no thought to the numerous questions buzzing in his mind, and solely focused on getting to her side and thinking of ways to transport her back to the place where the orphanage was camped out, so they could bring her to the hospital.

Nathan's face was as pale as an alabaster statue, and he stared at Max's bloodied body with wide eyes. At that, Zephyr snapped and got into action. It would do no good if both of them were panicked to the state of not thinking straight.

"Do you have a phone?" Zephyr asked the older boy urgently. Nathan turned his line of sight towards Zephyr, and nodded slightly. He quickly reached into his pocket and handed the phone to Zephyr.

"Here," he said, and his voice shook. Zephyr shook his head angrily.

"No, you call. Get an ambulance here as fast as possible," he ordered, adopting the voice of a commando ordering his troops. "You're too much in shock to be of any help to Max. I need to see where she's injured."

Nathan nodded dumbly and started dialling as Zephyr turned his attention back to Max.

Her face was pale. It looked white in what little moonlight there was, and Zephyr could only hope that she would stay alive at least until they got her to the hospital. The doctors there would help her. He surveyed the amount of thick red that surrounded her. The ground was covered with it, and so were her clothes and face. Her limbs stuck out in awkward angles. Numerous scratches were on her face and there were several gashes apparent on her arms and legs. She was bleeding very badly, and if they didn't do anything soon, she would probably die of blood loss.

Zephyr noted the bloodstains on the trunk of the tree she was under. It suggested that she had been propped up there, but had fallen into a lying position by herself. He frowned. Someone had definitely helped her to the side, for there was little possiblity of her dragging herself from the place where she had fallen to the tree she was under.

"Hang in there, Max," he muttered, and turned his attention to the ground before him. He moved to the area where she had fallen, stepping past Nathan, who was muttering quickly on the phone.

There. He saw the blood on the ground.

Someone had been here.

Zephyr cussed wildly in his head. Someone had been here, propped Max against a tree, and walked away. What the hell?

"I'm done calling," Nathan said quietly, and Zephyr wheeled around to face him. He was looking at Max, and an expression of determination set on his face. Zephyr pushed all thoughts of the moron who hadn't helped Max, and forced himself to think that Max's situation was currently more important than some asshole.

"Here, quickly," Zephyr said, and scurried forward and held her by her legs. Nathan stood at her head and bent down, attempting to place his arms beneath her armpits without hurting her. That was when Zephyr noticed him stiffening before wildly taking several steps backward. He looked in worse shock than before, and Zephyr couldn't help but feel that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

"Nathan," he said. Nathan's eyes snapped to Zephyr, and with the shock, came a look of horror, confusion, and anxiety.

Nathan pointed to her back. Zephyr turned.

And he saw white feathers peeking out from behind her.

"Holy shit," he muttered, coming to the same conclusion as Nathan had. Max had wings?! How was that possible - he thought he was the only one - no, wait, what if she had fallen on a feathery blanket or something, yeah, maybe she had. No reason to panic. No reason at all.

Zephyr stepped forward and gently lifted Max's upper torso up above the ground.

Wings.

Holy freaking _shit_.

* * *

Nudge stood outside the door of the ward they said Angel was in, clutching Mr. Jackson's hand. They had introduced themselves during the ride to the hospital. He squeezed her hand encouragingly, and Nudge shot him a grateful smile.

She closed her right palm around the doorknob of the room, and turned.

A woman, whom she recognised as one of the visitors, was sitting quietly beside the hospital bed. She recognised the boy as one of the older children from the orphanage, and his eyebrows raised in surprise as he looked at her. Nudge hesitated, before entering the room, Mr. Jackson staying outside the room.

"Angel?" Nudge called out quietly. The woman turned her head towards Nudge, and her brows furrowed in confusion. A haggard-looking expression was on her face; she looked really tired.

She said nothing, though, as Nudge continued walking slowly towards the hospital bed. A small, blonde-haired figure lay down on her side, facing the direction opposite Nudge. She looked as if she were asleep.

She was a little girl, all right, but there was something off. Too tall? Blonde hair too blonde? She was quiet and breathing heavily, and Nudge took a tentative step forward.

The girl sat up abruptly and gasped at the sound of her footstep. Immediate reactions came from the two other people in the room, as the lady stood up in alarm and the boy took several steps forward. Angel turned towards the door, and Nudge's eyes immediately focused on her badly burned face. She felt terrible. This.. Then, her eyes flickered back to the girl, and they widened.

"You're not Angel."

* * *

Ari curled into a ball on the ground, whimpering.

"Pathetic," someone spat, and Ari winced at the pain that the single word had invoked - more than the physical pain he was feeling right now. And that was a lot.

He whimpered again.

"What kind of son are you?" Jeb Batchelder sneered, his voice laced thickly with disgust. Ari screwed his eyes shut as tightly as he could. _The son who does his best, all for _you_, you jerk, and you don't even realise that.  
_

"He called you a jerk," a female voice said quietly from behind.

Ari stilled. That voice.. He recognised that voice. No, it couldn't be, he saw it all with his own eyes..

"Did he?" Jeb's voice had turned dangerously weird. No, no, no, Ari hugged himself and shut his eyes.

Ari heard Jeb pacing around him, like a predator looking at a helpless prey. So, that was it? After all he had done for his father, willingly or not, this was how it was going to end. Another kick in the gut. Another round of verbal lashing.

And why the hell was _she_ there?

Then, Jeb did the unexpected. Ari smelled him as he neared him and bent down, such that his face was at Ari's ear.

"You disappoint me, Ari," he said quietly.

No, don't talk. His words hurt sharper than a knife through his flesh.

As Jeb's scent became less strong, Ari realised that he had straightened out and was back at his standing position.

"I cannot stand another disappointment. And the sight of you right now, frankly speaking, is repulsive." Ari heard the disdain in his voice. That was two stabs in the heart. "That is why I have decided not to trust you with anything anymore."

What?

No more assignments? No more hurting little children?

"Because I have someone else, who, despite her age, can definitely do better than vermin like _you_." At that, Ari shut down. So, _her_. His own father had chosen _her_ over his own son.

That hurt more than the thought of Jeb abandoning him.

"Why, thank you," the sweet-girl voice said again. Ari clenched his fist. That _bitch_! He should have killed her when he had the chance back in the orphanage.

But.. how? How was it that she was alive?

"You're welcome, Angel," Jeb answered, and it hurt when Ari heard the fondness in his voice.

"So long as you keep to your promise," Angel said. "Max is _mine_ to finish off, for hurting my friends."

"Of course, Angel, sweetie, she'll be all yours once I'm done with her." Sweetie? He had never called Ari by a pet name before. Ari could imagine the grim smile that would be plastered on the face of his .. his .. father. No, he didn't deserve to be called his father. He wasn't a father at all. He was a _monster_.

A kick at the back of his head winded him, and Ari flinched.

"That's for calling nice Mr. B a monster," she hissed. "Come on, Mr. B, let's go. We have Max to find."

"Of course, darling," he called back, and the two pairs of footsteps echoed faintly as they walked off into the night, leaving Ari, curled up in a ball, sobbing his eyes out.


	17. Chapter 17

I owe this update to StephanieZorander and her uber long review as well as the other reviewers who totally guilt tripped me back into writing RAC. To my dearest readers who have this on story alert, you have my utmost apologies for leaving all of you hanging for a year and a half.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Maximum Ride or any other characters associated with the story.

* * *

He had nowhere to go.

Jeff was starting to question his decision of flying off by himself. It was practically running away, and running away was always weak. _Weak_. And he was not weak.

At least, when he was with the orphanage, he had somewhere to be. Food would be provided, and he had a 'home' to stay in. Shelter, toilet, and all. Now, as he flapped his wings hard, feeling the wind whistling past his face, a feeling of apprehension began to overcome him. What was he thinking? He couldn't do this. He couldn't survive at all. He wasn't familiar with his surroundings, and could get lost. He didn't have any money to buy food, and he couldn't possibly _steal_ food, for he wouldn't know if there were people around or not.

There it all was, his blindness deterring him in everything that he ventured to do.

Stupid eyes.

He didn't need them. He had his other senses, and he had wings. They made up for everything. Maybe he would open a one-man freak show and beg for money. That could work.

It was better than flying aimlessly around, after all.

Or maybe he should return to the orphanage camp right now, and pretend he never left. Ari wouldn't dare attack him with all those people around, anyway.

Or would he?

Was he capable of something like that?

Capable or not, Jeff had to do something, and fast. He could already feel his bowels filling up, and he didn't have anywhere to go to pee. In the forest? No way.

Question lead after question.

Should he return to the orphanage or stay away?

If he stayed away, where would he go? How would he survive?

And if he returned, would Ari dare to attack him in front of all those children?

What did Ari want with him anyway? That question was the one that struck him as the most odd. For the past years he had spent in the orphanage, Ari hadn't been a problem to him at all. Before Max came, he had done all he could to avoid any encounters with him, and had succeeded. After Max left, he had turned into a hermit and kept a low profile.

He practically didn't exist. Why did Ari attack him after so many years of ignoring him?

Jeff's fist curled into a ball as the answer came to him in a flash. How simply obvious.

_Jeb._

But what did Jeb want with him, anyway? Why not just call him down and speak to him? Was he _afraid_ that Jeff would turn him in or something?

Jeff snorted. Not possible. He ruled Jeb out, and continued puzzling, flying in circles in the night sky.

After almost thirty minutes, Jeff stopped, weariness overcoming him. He would take the easy way out, at least, for the moment - and return to the orphanage. He would get some food and rest first. After all, it wasn't like anyone could prevent him from leaving if he wanted. (He had wings!)

So he turned and headed off back towards the orphanage.

* * *

Nick flew.

He just flew. He knew where he was headed and he knew how to get there. It was built into his head, and he could automatically fly back without a second thought. It was like he was on autopilot mode. Fang, the airplane. Ha ha. Therefore, his attention was focused in his mind.

The battle with his inner conscience was heated and intense.

_Go back and dig him up, you fucking idiot! If he suffocates in there, you'll be a murderer! A MURDERER. Would Max like that?_

Nick gulped. Max wouldn't like a murderer. What if she became afraid of him and ran away again? He would only be chasing her away!

_What she doesn't know won't kill her, _the sinister voice in his head said. _Look at what all three of them have done to her. They've touched her. How could you let anyone touch her?  
_

His eyes hardened at the memory and he clenched his fist. They had touched her. Blondie had hugged her.

THEY TOUCHED HER, DAMMIT.

_But it didn't seem like it was bothering her, did it?_

... No matter how he didn't want to admit it, it was true. It wasn't as if they had raped her or something. The Halo-Fang in his head continued speaking.

_And anyway, it's not like you could have done something about it! Hello? You left her for four years? Obviously people would touch her! It's not like you're going to kill every single person besides you who have touched her, right? You'd be a mass murderer.  
_

_They treated her like a toy.. The three of them fighting over her.._

_You still have time. He wouldn't have suffocated yet. You can go dig him up. Go. GO. Before you become a murderer._

Nick stopped flying in mid air and yelled.

"ARGH!"

He let out his pent up emotions.

He screamed because of his stupidity.

He screamed for being such a possessive moron.

He screamed because he was such a jealous asshole.

He screamed because he loved Max so damn much. He had loved her ever since the first day they met and took that Polaroid together, even love was icky and not supposed to exist at that time.

Polaroid.

He still had one left.

He could use it and take a picture with Max. One picture and finish the remaining film. She would be happy and smiling and so would he.

But in order to do that, he would have to dig Tim back up, and hopefully before he died in there.

And he would have to get back to Max, where he had left her under the tree.

Without a second thought, Nick steered himself and made an abrupt three-sixty turn. He flapped his wings as hard as he could, hoping that Tim would still be alive by the time Nick dug him back up.

He would apologise. Or he wouldn't mention anything if Tim couldn't remember anything at all.

It was amazing what drive and determination could do to someone. Nick reached the place in less than half the amount of time he had taken to travel as far as he had just now.

He grabbed the spade from under the bushes and started to dig as fast as he could, praying quietly that Tim was still alive. It would rather ..bad if he died when Nick changed his mind.

And then he heard it.

It was a strange whistling sort of noise, that made him snap his head up into the air for fear for what it was. Nothing normal made that kind of noise in the sky. It was frightening and it gave him the chills. And for _him_ to get the chills... This was bad.

And then he saw it.

* * *

"Where d'ya reckon Angel is?" Mr. Jackson uttered absently, as he steered the truck back towards the orphanage.

"I don't know," Nudge whispered, her voice hoarse. Her cheeks were wet with silent tears, and Nudge knew that Mr. Jackson had seen them. However, he was probably a man who was not into touchy-feely subjects, so he had pretended to be ignorent of her tears. For that, Nudge silently thanked him. It would be too awkward a situation if he had brought that up.

Too much. Too much.

This was all too much. Going to the hospital to find out it wasn't Angel. Wondering where the heck her little baby was. Wishing that she was with her Angel, her baby Angel. Playing with the possibility that she was actually ..dead.

Angel... dead?

Her world would end.

Angel was her life. Her world. Her shining little ball of happiness who packed a good punch. And if that fire in her eyes died.. The world might as well die along with it.

Because Angel was the only thing, the only person that kept Nudge going on. The prospect of spending another day together with her little baby Angel kept her moving on, and stopped her from giving up. Angel, despite her young age, was like a guardian angel to Nudge; something out of a fairytale - too good to be true. And yet, miracles could happen. They were both able to survive Ari. That fact alone was a miracle.

And now.. Angel was nowhere to be found.

Nudge was afraid. She was very afraid.

What if Angel was really dead? What would she do then? The sky would be darker, the joy in the world would be gone, and darkness would have a new depth to the word. Life would be meaningless.

Then she saw it.

"Dear god," Mr. Jackson cursed quietly, and pulled the truck to a stop in the middle of the road. The several vehicles around on the road honked and came to an abrupt halt as the drivers all started to look up at the sky in awe and fear.

They had no idea what it was.

Nudge had no idea what it was.

It was a monster; a giant ball of burning, angry flames, coming down from the sky.

And it was getting bigger.

As she looked at it, her eyes big with awe, Nudge whispered a silent prayer to whatever god that was up there for herself, Angel and the world.

* * *

"Nathan."

Zephyr glanced anxiously at the direction of his fellow companion. His face was pale and slicked with sweat, and he did nothing but to stare at Max's back.

Where the wings were sprouting out of.

"Nathan," Zephyr pushed, not roughly. They needed to move Max before she lost too much blood, and it seemed as if she had already lost a lot. They could not afford to waste precious time gaping at her wings. That could be done _after_ she was safe in the hospital, where they would be sure she would be alive and kicking.

Zephyr sighed as he realized that Nathan would not be of any help. _So much for working out,_ he thought, thinking back to when Nathan had tried to engage Zephyr in a conversation about the amount of exercise they got each day. Those muscles that he had gotten were of no use if he just stood there to gape.

"For goodness' sake, Nathan, get a grip on yourself! Max needs help right now!" Zephyr tried a different tactic.

Nathan didn't move.

"Oh, to heck with it," Zephyr muttered, and started towards Max. He bent down and attempted to carry Max up, bridal style.

Ah. Right. Problem.

She was a little less than twice his size. Zephyr cursed.

"Nathan, would you please - "

"Four years."

His voice was cracked and hoarse. Nathan's eyes remained transfixed on Max's broken body and his body trembled. With shock, fear or anger, Zephyr didn't know.

However, after taking note of Nathan's clenched fist with the tendons sticking out, Zephyr reconciled his thoughts. How ironic that the conversation about the amount of hours they worked out each day would come in handy right now. Zephyr didn't stand a chance against Nathan. If Nathan was ..angry and wanted to fight, though how sadistic he could get that he would injure a damaged body Zephyr didn't know, Zephyr didn't stand a chance.

Would it be better if Zephyr engaged Nathan in conversation and tried to make him move at the same time? He would be distracted.

"Four years?" Zephyr said cautiously.

"Four years," Nathan repeated, his voice almost a growl. "I have known her for four years, and I've never known about ..this."

Zephyr couldn't help himself. He raised an eyebrow sceptically, and moved towards Max, gesturing for Nathan to move. To his surprise, Nathan walked forward and carried her legs up. Zephyr placed his hands under her armpits and lifted her body up.

"If _you_ had wings, would you tell anyone about them?" Zephyr shot back at Nathan, as they trudged back towards the open. It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but Nathan answered it.

"Yes. Especially to my best friends." A bitter tone lay thick on his words. Best friends, eh?

"Really." The sceptimism was obvious in his voice.

"Yes. What's wrong with having wings?" Nathan's face was scrunched up. "They're a gift. They're something worth sharing with the world. They're a gift that could help others."

"They're a gift that could attract unwanted attention," Zephyr pointed out, and at that, Nathan's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Zephyr never lost his eye contact with Nathan.

"What if you had wings, Nathan. Imagine. No matter how much good you say it will bring to the world, the bad it brings will ultimately be worse. And what good could someone with wings do, anyway?"

Nathan snorted.

"Bad? These - these can't bring anything bad! They're wings! Gifts!"

"_Gifts_ that people will fight over for personal gain."

"To help the world."

"_Gifts_ that will cause those with wings to be experimented on."

"For advancement of man."

"_Gifts_ that will cause so much unneeded trouble and pain to those affected as compared to if the these were not discovered."

"For the greater good."

"Not everyone is as noble and selfless as you make it seem to be, Nathan," Zephyr shook his head. "I'm sure you don't need someone so many years your junior tell you that."

"Well, you just did," Nathan pointed out. "And, I'm starting to wonder, how in the world do you know _so much_ on these wings? A kid like you? No one can be that perceptive. It's as if.. you have them yourself.."

By then, they had come to a halt at the border of the trees. The orphanage was in plain sight, and the chaos was subdued but present. A dark, sinister look crossed Nathan's face and Zephyr felt a rush of adrenaline as Nathan dropped Max's legs and lunged towards him, a snarl on his face.

Zephyr uttered a curse, and tried to place Max's head down on the ground as gently as possible before Nathan struck.

They tumbled down in a tangle of limbs on the floor, a little bit a ways from Max. How idiotic the situation was, really. Max lay courting death a few feet away and the only two people who could help her at the moment were fighting over the pros and cons of wings. Those goddamn, bloody things. All wings were good for was to ruin lives.

Despite being so close to the orphanage, nobody seemed to take notice of the two boys, the darkness shrouding them from eyes of the people around. Please, Zephyr prayed, at least have someone notice them and take Max to the hospital. Nathan threw blow after blow while Zephyr deflected him. Damn it, damn this, damn Nathan to the deepest pit of hell. If Max died... He barely even got her back..

A cold, calm determination set as Zephyr continued to deflect Nathan's blows and ignore his outraged shouts. Max would _not _die just because of this stupid idiot. Newfound strength flooded to Zephyr from what seemed like nowhere, and suddenly, Nathan didn't seem that much of a threat.

What was this? Zephyr felt more powerful than ever. He had never felt something like this, even when being beat up by Ari in place of Nudge and Angel. His back was tingling, his vision cleared and the impact of Nathan's blows on his arms lessened.

Zephyr knew he was a freak, but ... this? No, there was no time to think things through. Zephyr closed his eyes and let his natural instincts take over. He had learned to trust his gut and instinct when in doubt, and they had proved themselves worthy on more than one occasion.

However, what his instinct was telling him to do this time took him aback, but it was too late for him to change his mind and course of action.

The back of Zephyr's shirt violently ripped open as ten feet worth of wings emerged. He felt refreshed, strong, _powerful_. Zephyr kicked a beserk Nathan aside as he strode to Max and lifted her with the newfound strength that he had attained.

People were starting to notice, and he heard the screams of horror and shock. How ironic that when he needed the help nobody came, and now, when he could actually do something, people came and became nuisances. He cradled Max in his small arms. She was practically spilling over, but he had some sort of confidence in this strength. It was odd. He had never dared to use his wings, and had always kept them tightly wrapped against his body for fear of detection. And yet, as another wave of self-assurance crashed over him, he _knew _what to do.

Zephyr squatted and, with a powerful downward stroke, pushed himself off the ground, Max in his arms.

"I'll bring you to the hospital, Max," he whispered as he slowly rose into the sky, his somewhat sore wings slowly adjusting and getting accustomed to the flapping. "You saved my life, and now I'm returning the favour."

That was when Max opened her eyes in terror and screamed.

* * *

_Then the bombs that Itex planted all over the world exploded and the unknown fireball made contact with the ground and everyone died._

_The end._

A/N: Okay, no, not the end. I was just so tempted to insert that somewhere inside the fic to just get it over and done with, ha ha. Okay, cutting the crap. If you want to read this author's note, read on. If not, review if you want to, and go on with life. This is for those who have stuck with me throughout the first sixteen chapters until I stopped.

Firstly, if you've decided to continue reading despite my year-and-a-half of hiatus, you have my undying thanks. Thank you so very much, and I really do mean it sincerely.

Secondly, I extend my sincerest apology for leaving you guys hanging like that for so long. I swear, I'm really very sorry. I kinda lost motivation and didn't want to continue with a crappy plotline and crappy writing just because I couldn't write well enough. But, after re-visiting the email account I use for fanfiction and being all shocked at the emails that have accumulated, let's just say I hit myself really really hard for being an ass and started typing furiously.

Thirdly, in order to end everyone's agony, and/or annoyance, I'm going to wrap up RAC really soon. I won't let it go over 20 chapters, so just to let y'all know.

So yeah. Chapter 17. Hopefully it matched the standard of the previous chapters. My standard of writing has, no doubt, deteriorated. I'd love to get concrit, hear your opinions, get bashed at for being an ass, hear about how your life has been for the past year, and such. So do leave a review if you have the time, even if I don't deserve it. xoxo


	18. Chapter 18

It's going to be a bit choppy, but bear with me, yeah?

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Maximum Ride or any characters associated with the story.

* * *

"How did this happen? This was _not _supposed to happen, what the _hell_, Roland!" Jeb paced up and down the deserted road, obviously distressed. He had rushed to dial the scientist's number the moment he got the report that Max's wings had been discovered by Nathan. It was not supposed to happen. And now, all that bull Angel was telling him about Nick fighting himself over whether to leave the kid he buried there? No! He was supposed to leave him to die! How the f-

"Mr B, even though I'm with you now, I'd rather not hear profanities," Angel uttered, sweet as ever. Jeb ignored her as he strained against the background noise to hear what Roland had to say.

"I – I do not know, Jeb," Roland muttered, his voice hushed. Jeb could catch the faint sound of clacking keys in the background, signalling that Roland was busy typing on the computer and doing whatever was necessary to find out what the fu – fish had happened to allow _this _to happen. Jeb stopped pacing as panic ran rampant in his mind. This was _not _supposed to happen. "Ze pills vere supposed to last them till dey are twenty."

"I _know_! That's why I'm wondering how the hell that kid Nathan could see her wings, even though we used Terry to give them the pills! Those pills are fail-safe!"

"I... I do not know, Jeb," Roland repeated. "Maybe ze injection ve used on Terry lost it's effect." Jeb's eyes widened.

"No! It's not supposed to - Angel, what is Terry doing right now?" Jeb demanded, phone still crushed against his ear. This was an emergency, this was _not _supposed to happen.

Angel closed her eyes as Jeb watched impatiently.

"Quick!"

"I'm doing my best, Mr B," she snapped, eyes still screwed tightly shut. "Just to let you know, I've only been aware of my powers for a whole of three hours, so don't expect me to pull off miracles. And I'm only doing this because Max is _mine _to finish off."

Jeb held back the urge to slap the lights out of her. Why, that puny little brat -

"I'm not a brat," Angel hissed, her eyes flying open. "Neither am I puny, no matter how small or young I am. Terry is sitting on the ground, nobody's paying any attention to him. His mind's a mess; he's thinking about some fire that happened when he was younger, Roland ter Borcht, and his mother."

"Shit," Jeb cursed under his breath. "Roland, you heard that?"

"Yes, I did," Roland's accented voice full of panic came over the receiver. "Vot are we going to - " Panicked voices suddenly cut Roland off. What in the world? Roland's voice came back over the phone, hushed, and full of fear. "Jeb, the Director is here. In person."

Jeb's eyes widened as he clung to the phone for dear life. The Director was there. The goddamn Director was there _in person_. The Director _never _showed himself in person.

"Jeb, I - " Somebody cut Roland off. Then, a new voice snapped over the phone. Monotonous. Demanding. Cold. Female.

"Activate the backup plan."

The phone went silent, signalling that the Director had cut the line.

Jeb sat back, feeling shaky. Direct orders from The Director. The backup plan. He ... He had wanted to avoid it at all costs. It was dangerous, bordering on cruel, but, given the situation.. A calm resolve hardened Jeb's heart.

"Angel, can you feel Max's mind?"

"Yes, I can, Mr B. It's a bit faint, though." A frown appeared on her face as she concentrated. "She's unconscious."

"We will have to make do," Jeb quickly shot out. He began to type furiously on the phone that he clutched in his hands. Once he was done, he stowed it away in the pocket of his coat. "Hand," he demanded.

Angel obediently stuck her hand out. As Jeb removed a small container from his coat pocket, he wondered if Angel felt shaken by how the Director had affected him. The backup plan was .. he couldn't, but he _had to_. Jeb took out a syringe from the container and clamped a hand on Angel's.

_I'm sorry, Angel, my sweetheart_, he thought in his head. Why Angel? If only it were Ari, or some other person he had to -

"No!" Angel screamed as she realized what he was about to do. _Shit, _Jeb had thought about it. He shouldn't have, and he had wanted to make it as painless as possible. Angel tried to wrench her hand away from Jeb's iron grip but it was to no avail.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, a haunted edge to his voice, and plunged the needle into the arm of the thrashing girl with the expertise of a practiced man.

* * *

"Get out of the way."

"Momma. I want my Momma."

"Oh, you're that kid Borcht injected."

"Momma? I want my Momma."

"I'm not your mother."

"I want my Momma."

"She's in Itex."

"What's Itex? Why is my Momma in Itex?"

"They're using her to use you, that's why."

"But Momma is dead."

"Oh, yeah. They'll probably kill her once they don't need you anymore."

"She died in the fire."

"She'll die in a fire soon."

"But she's dead. Momma is dead. But I want my Momma."

"You'll join her soon enough. We all will."

"Why?"

"They'll kill us," Ari said simply, his somewhat empty voice full of bitterness. "They'll kill us all."

* * *

"Link Max to Gazzy, Fang, Iggy and Nudge."

A pause.

"Done."

"Are you sure? Iggy and Fang are far away."

"I'm sure. I can feel them now. I can.. I can feel _everyone_." The underlying awe in Angel's voice did not go unnoticed, but even then, Jeb was taken aback at how powerful that syringe of enhancement liquid made her. She was now an even more powerful pawn in this dangerous game he was playing.

It was working.

"Link the five of them to every single person who is in a five metre radius around them, excluding both of us."

Another pause.

"Done."

"Good. Now," Jeb hesitated. He knew the consequences. The adverse effects of what he was about to do. But it was necessary, and the lives that were going to be lost were negligible compared to the good that Itex would soon bring to the world. "Now, feed Max's mind with this."

Angel looked at the images filling the smartphone that Jeb held out to her. Her eyes widened at the images and the order that he had issued her, but her mouth stayed shut by it's own will and she obeyed him. Angel closed her eyes, concentrated and projected the images into Max's unconscious mind.

A blood-curdling scream in the distance marked her success.

"Yes," Jeb whispered. It had worked. "Yes."

"Is phase one of ze backup plan successful?" Roland's voice buzzed over the phone. He had called Jeb immediately after the Director had left. Jeb pulled his phone away from Angel's wide eyes and put it to his ear.

"Yes," Jeb repeated, his voice hollow. "Yes."

"Den proceed to phase two. You know what to do." Emotionless. Roland ter Borcht was emotionless as he reminded Jeb of the greatest sin that he was about to commit.

He... He couldn't possibly...

"I - I can't, Roland," Jeb whispered. "I can't do it."

A life was still a life, no matter how insignificant. Never had he taken lives throughout the countless number of years he had worked with Itex. Tortured, yes. Hurt, yes. Heartlessly, even. But _killing_... That was another matter altogether.

"Vot do you mean you cant?" Roland sounded taken aback. "You have to. It is ze only way. You know that Angel is linked to you now. Only you can tell her vot to do."

Jeb let the hand holding the phone drop to his side. He looked at Angel, sweet little Angel that he had corrupted, and let the word escape his mouth. The defining word of the backup plan, that would ensure that the cocoon of safety that Itex hid behind would remain intact.

At the expense of others.

"Kill," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

The phone clattered to the ground.

_What have I done?_

* * *

Jeff could _see_. Vision flickered into his eyes, but Jeff realized that he only could look at the sky. Anything below was blackness, the empty, cold blackness he was used to. So he looked at the sky, coming to a halt in mid-air, as he looked, numb. He didn't know how or why he could now see, but the things that filled his line of vision made him unsure of whether he wanted to see any longer.

Fire. Fire coming down from the sky.

He had no idea what it was. A burning missile? A meteorite? He didn't know, but it shook him to the very core. Fear engulfed like water to a drowning man.

Jeff turned, closed his eyes and fled, willing the sight of the Fireball thing to leave his mind. Eyesight? Who needed eyesight? Who needed fucking eyesight?

That was when he collided into another body. He had been too aborbed in his thoughts and had been concentrating so much on putting as much distance as possible between the Fireball and him that he hadn't been listening out for anything.

But, then again, there wasn't anything to listen for.. He was in the _sky _after all, and he could _fly._ If he collided into anything it would probably be an airplane or something just as noisy, so how on earth had he collided into a ... warm, solid body? What on earth..

And why in the world was Jeff feeling so calm given the situation? Fireball, stranger up in the sky and all. Perhaps he was shocked into that unnerving state of eerie calm that he felt.

"Jeff?"

He recognized that voice, even though it was currently laced with panic. And that voice did not match any emotion. It wasn't supposed to be full of panic, it was supposed to be calm.

"_Nick?_"

* * *

Nick cursed. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Screw the kid; he was going to die sooner or later anyway, the way he was acting around girls. Clapped in jail and sent to the execution chamber, that's what his life story would be.

No, Nick had better things to do than to dig up the boy he buried. Like, hmmmm, _run for his goddamn life? _Or rather, fly in his case. He had turned on his heels and flapped his wings as hard as he could away from that goddamn thing in the air, never pausing to look back.

So when he crashed into an all-too-familiar body that belonged to someone who was once his friend called Iggy, saying that he was shocked was an understatement.

"Jeff?" The word thoughtlessly escaped his mouth, and as he moved back from Jeff, he saw his ... fellow winged person still in shock when he recognized the voice. Oh, right. The kid was blind.

"Nick?" The voice was, oddly enough, calm. Damn, how could Jeff be so calm in a situation like this? Each moment they stayed stationary in mid-air, they were closer to becoming fried pieces of meat. "Why - how - I thought - "

The same incoherent thoughts bounced around Nick's mind, but they had bigger things to worry about.

"We have bigger fish to fry Jeff, shut up and get _moving_!" Jeff nodded curtly and together they sped away in silence, tension thick in the air. Nick presumed that Jeff had heard the thing, and it was .. getting louder.

Louder, and louder, and louder.

He didn't dare turn around to gauge how much distance there was between the thing and themselves. He was afraid to do so.

And fear was a foreign concept to Nick.

* * *

She wouldn't stop screaming.

Zephyr had halted in mid air when Max started screaming. Pure terror in it's holy form, that's what it was. Zephyr had never felt this ... jittery, and that was an understatement. Cold fingers of fear trailed tauntingly down his spine, and Zephyr shuddered as he tried to close off the panic in his mind in order to think straight.

Hospital. Hospital. Why was she screaming? Hospital. Hospital. Hospital. Zephyr flapped as hard as possible as he trained his eyes on land, holding on to the thrashing Max for dear life. It didn't help that he was being dragged up and down in mid-air trying to keep Max from falling off despite his sudden strength. The fact that he didn't know the neighbourhood at all also did not help.

He assumed that a hospital would look big and have the word hospital splashed all over, but there wasn't one in sight. The panic that he had barely pushed aside in his mind engulfed him once again, and Zephyr's heart started pounding so quickly. He could feel the blood rushing at practically breakneck speed through his veins. What to do? What the fuck was someone to do when he held an injured, screaming, thrashing, possibly dying figure in his arms? WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE SUPPOSED TO DO?

_Gazzy._

A voice rang in his head, and that was when Zephyr was absolutely positive that he was losing his mind. That voice, that baby voice, that belonged to someone so sweet and innocent. That voice, which was usually full of fear, apprehension and vulnerability. That sweet, sweet voice which was now commanding.

"_Angel_," he breathed to himself. How on earth.. Gazzy... He hadn't heard that nickname in such a long time. Ever since.. Zephyr glanced down and that was when he realized that Max was no longer thrashing. What the.. He saw the colour red - blood was everywhere, but she had stopped screaming and thrashing and was still in his arms. No.. No this could only mean one thing - _HOLY SHIT DID SHE DIE WHAT THE FU - _

_Gazzy. Gazzy, calm down. _Angel's voice was so alluring, so calming. Commanding, yet soothing. He couldn't help but to do as she said. But no, no, _no,_ how could he be calm when Max -

_She's not dead. _What? No, shut up, it's just a voice in my head, he was going mad, hahahahahahah, so this was what insanity felt like, what more he was holding a dead girl with wings in his arms, the person he thought of as his mother figure, in-fucking-sane, that's what he was -

_You're not going mad, Zeph. _Shut up. Shut up.

_No, _listen to me_. You're stationary in mid air. Find a clearing among the trees and land. Do it _fast_. Now._

Best part of all? Zephyr did exactly what that voice in his head was telling him to do. Max was dead, he didn't feel anything but panicked calm - oh the joys of oxymorons and irony and contradictions - and he was following orders from a voice in his head that he thought was Angel's without know why or how or what, he was going mad and yet he was still doing it, what was wrong with him, and why was he rambling in his head, he's going mad, bazookers, like how Ari was mad,

There, a clearing. He landed.

_Good. Stay there. Stay with Max and _don't move from there at all_. I'm going to bring Ig and Fang over. There're too many heads - I can't find Nudge.  
_

What on earth? Zephyr gently set Max onto the softest patch of ground he could find and sat down next to her.

_Do you remember, Gaz?_ What was she talking about? No, wait, he couldn't refer to that crazy voice as _she_, it wasn't Angel, he was hallucinating, he was hearing things, he was going crazy, he was

_You're not crazy,_ Angel's voice said. It was softer, like she - _it _- was trying to console and sooth him, and yet it had a hint of melancholy to it. _It's me. I'm Angel. _

Yeah, right. Dead girl in his arms. Voice in his head. Insane. Mad. Asylum. Where's the asylum they were going to throw him in? And yet he didn't feel compelled to move, he didn't feel the _need _to move away from that clearing, like what _it _had told him to do so.

_They think they won, _the voice - _it_ - said. There was a blatant bitterness to the voice. _They think they won, but they didn't. They made us forget. But somehow, intentionally or not, _he_ made me remember. That injection was supposed to enhance my powers, but it made me remember.  
_

What on earth?

_Do you remember, Gazzy?_ the voice in his head said softly, full of affection and a magnitude of feelings that he could not comprehend. _Do you remember what we were - _are_?_ _You must remember, because when they wake up, they won't believe me until they remember._

This was crazy, he was going crazy. Was this his conscience talking to himself? What kind of twisted thing was this?

_You're not going crazy,_ the voice whispered in his head. Yeah right, how was that possible, when he was hearing voices? _I'm your sister, Gazzy. I'm Angel. I'm not some voice. I'm your sister. We were the Flock. We were going to save the world. We were supposed to save the world. We did it, we saved the world. But we let our guard down. The remains of Itex got us, one by one. They made us forget.  
_

This was getting out of hand. What kind of crazy story he telling himself?

_You're not crazy, _the voice was bordering on desperate. _You must remember._ _You have to remember. Remember!  
_

A painful stab to his head.

Zephyr fainted.


End file.
